


Forbidden Streets, Ominous Secrets & Dark Alleyways

by Digital_Night_Sky



Series: Roads That Lead to Nowhere [2]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: :0, Action, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Betrayal, Brotherly Love, Death, Deception, Drugs/Alcohol Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Friendship, Gang AU, Gangs, Gore, Guns, Humor, I will probably add more tags, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mafia AU, Murder, Suspense, Threats, To lovers?, Tord has a brother, Tord's brother gets Edd & his friends into big trouble, Violence, he's cool af, help them, slow build-up, the EW guys are seniors in high school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digital_Night_Sky/pseuds/Digital_Night_Sky
Summary: Tom would have never guessed that he'd be stuck in this situation - the only thing his mind was set on was drinking, video games, and graduating high school already so he didn't have to wake up so damn early.So what the heck was he doing in Norway, where his former enemy's brother's ex-gang was trying to kill him?Oh well. At least he wasn't going to die alone.**You don't have to read the 1st part to understand the 2nd part, but minor references will be made. Also the summary for the series "Roads That Lead to Nowhere" is way better than what's listed here, so i suggest you check that one out!**





	1. Prologue

 

_**In Norway . . .** _

Just the thought of it made his mouth go dry. Travis cleared his throat as he rolled his tongue around his mouth in a feeble attempt to get that dry desert moist again, but it was useless. His nerves bounced uncontrollably as he clenched his teeth, finishing off the cigarette in his mouth.

Everyone knew better than to break the rules of a gang, but he had his reasons, he supposed as his heavy feet crunched under the gravel of the streets. _It’s cold_ , he thought as he cracked his neck and knuckles, fighting the urge to light another cigarette.

Travis had thought about his decision for months - what he was going to say, when he was going to say it, and what he was going to do if the plan didn’t go through. It wasn't exactly all fun and games, he realized, to be a part of one of Norway's most violent gangs around. He was only sixteen when he'd joined them too, such a young age to throw his life away. The other gang members, who were covered in tattoos and ripped, tight clothes and nasty reputations knew he had potential. Now he was twenty-four, still doing the same routine that he was starting to despise.

But, the truth was, no matter how lean, how muscular, how fast, and how bad he looked - he was a melting marshmallow around his family.

Well, he was more of an expired, hard, crusty marshmallow around his mom. It was Tord that motivated him.

He was literally risking his life for Tord. His little brother. They had been separated when Tord was just ten, and Travis being sixteen. Their parents weren’t very considerate towards their actions; Travis only grew more miserable in Norway, but he was happy to know that Tord was safe and sound and somewhat content in New England.

Tord knew about Travis being in a gang and looked up to him for it. He’d wanted to be just like Travis when he grew up; drink alcohol and smoke and grown-up, but he wasn’t having that. The gang he was in, and the other surrounding gangs of their city, was horrible, period. He’d seen guys’ brains blown out multiple times. He saw other people’s family members get kidnapped, tortured, and ultimately executed for other people’s offenses.

He didn’t want Tord to get involved in any of that. So that’s why he was quitting. He and Tord were talking the other day, and their conversation made his heart grow heavy:

_“Hey there, Turd. How’ve ya been?”_

_“Stop calling me that, Travis, or I’m flying over there to kick your ass.”_

_“Ha ha. Fat chance. How’re you doing, Tord? It’s been a while.”_

_“Alright, I guess. I got into another fight yesterday after a couple of drinks.”_

_“ . . . “_

_“. . . Travis? You there?”_

_“Yeah, I’m here. It’s just - I thought I told you to lay off on the drinking and the fighting. You aren’t getting involved with drugs too, are you?”_

_“ . . . Maybe. Okay, I’ll admit that I’ve probably sold a little baggie or two of the stuff, but I swear I’ve only smoked it once. I hated it. I stick to cigars and only cigars.”_

_“Tord, please, stay out of that. You could get into some serious shit and you know it.”_

_His little brother sucked his teeth. Rude. “Travis, I’m not ten anymore, remember? I’m eighteen. The gangs out here aren’t even that bad anyways. They try to act tough, but they’re cowards. Plus, I’m making some extra money out of -_

_“Listen, I know I can’t stop you a million miles away from where you are, so I won’t. But all I can say is be careful.”_

_He scoffed. “How come you were allowed to be in a gang?” Tord asked rather spitefully. “If those things are so bad, why don’t you man up and quit already?”_

_“Because I was stupid,” Travis growled, his grip tightening around the phone. “Mom needed money and her job wasn’t enough. I dropped out of school so no one wanted to hire me. I don’t need to explain the things I do, Tord!”_

_“Well, I don’t have to explain things to you either! I won’t be able to learn anything from you until you're strong enough to quit,” Tord spat, tears of anger forming in his eyes._

_“ . . . I’ll talk to you soon, Tord.”_

 

Travis sighed, gulping around the lump in his throat. Tord didn’t know about the rules that gangs followed, and that you weren’t allowed to quit. They made you promise your loyalty unto the gang till death, and Travis didn’t think anything of it. Hell, he thought he was invincible. But now he was trying to quit because his conscious had touched him. What they were doing was wrong, and he didn’t want Tord to end up in the same position as him. Most importantly, he didn’t want any of his family members to get in his messes.

Travis reasoned to himself as his gang’s hideout came into view. He’d been a part of this gang for years. Surely they’d understand why he had to leave? They could move on without him, replace him with another guy eventually.

But leaving the gang was considered betrayal. They thought that whoever quit would go to other rival gangs and reveal their former gang’s secrets, even though that wasn’t on Travis’ mind.

Then he thought of the leader. The Boss of the gang didn’t see the members as human beings; they were like weapons. They were only used when necessary, and they were only used to harm. When weapons were declared as broken or worthless, they were ultimately thrown out. Crushed. Destroyed. The only way you could quit a gang without being pursued was by beating The Boss in a fight. If you lost, they either killed you or beat you up so badly no one would recognize you afterwards.

Sweat began to trickle down Travis’ forehead. He knew he had no chance with The Boss. He was huge and skilled, sharpened with years and years of fights and killings and God knows what else. Then an idea popped in his mind - what if Travis just _left_? Without letting anyone know? Just started to not show up to their weekly drug deals? He could run. He could fake his death or something. Maybe they’d even forget about him altogether.

 _It’s decided, then,_ he thought to himself as he turned around and began to run back to home before someone saw him. He would have to leave as soon as possible, before they caught on to his disappearance. He didn’t know where to go yet, but it had to be somewhere where they couldn’t find him. He needed to pack what he needed and run. He’d tell Mom that he’d gone on a business trip or something. They couldn’t track her down either; none of the others knew where he lived. She’d be safe.

He thought he was doing the right thing.

He was wrong. He was very, very wrong.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *if you have a request be free to leave a comment in any of my works and I’ll try hard to get it done! (please no furries/OCs/nsfw) any ship is welcome!!  
> ** if anyone wants to make fanart of anything I write I’m okay with that but all I ask is that you let me know, make sure you give me credit, and send me the link so I can see it!**


	2. Liquor Burns Like Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Travis gets into an argument with his little brother, Tord goes out to a bar and wakes up in someone's house - someone that he least expected to be grateful for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the update was a little late, I rewrote this chapter like three times and my school decided to dump a bunch of current events on me it was hell
> 
> **This is the fight Tord was talking to his brother about last chapter btw**

 

Tord groaned softly as thin beams of sunlight hit his closed eyelids, interrupting his otherwise deep and quiet slumber. Everything he saw was a blurry, scrambled mess - this was when he knew he was in the midst of a hangover. He considered going back to sleep but eventually decided against it; perhaps getting up and attempting to remember what happened the night before would be the best option. He tried to sit up from his lying position but suddenly released a pained grunt when a horrible ache rushed through his entire body, particularly his arms.

 _Shit, I must’ve gotten in another fight,_ he thought, rolling up his sleeves and seeing the bruises marking his skin. An image of someone’s fist coming straight at him flashed in his mind, and he inwardly cringed. How would he explain himself to his aunt?

 _Wait . . . where am I?_ Tord looked around, trying hard not move too much due to the pain, and noticed that he was _definitely_ not in his aunt’s house. The walls were a light baby blue, not the light shade of red he was so familiar with - and he was pretty sure he didn’t own the couch he woke up on either. _Oh God - did I get laid? Did I meet someone last night and actually get laid??_

Tord looked around a bit more - nah, his clothes were still on, and there was no sign of another person around. Now he was really confused - should he just get up and leave? Or wait for someone to show up and tell him what happened last night?

Tord had started going out to bars two months ago, a little after he turned eighteen. He had to make himself a fake ID to get in, which wasn’t that hard for an inventor such as himself. He did it because his brother had done it, and he’d always looked up to Travis. Besides, what could have been a better way to spend the weekend after a few hectic days of school?

. . . But this was the first time he’d woken up in someone else’s house. He never thought he would find himself in this predicament.

Just then, he heard a door open in the hallway. Fear rose in his stomach because he had no idea what to expect. Could it be possible that someone kidnapped him and brought him to their house so they could kill him? Did he do something illegal? _Was he going to die??_

Right when he was about to jump from the couch and make a run for it, his eyes widened at the sight of - “Tom?”

He had to be dreaming, he was sure - but there he was, a considerably tall and lanky Brit with spiky hair that seemed messier than usual, wearing a thick blue hoodie.

“Mornin,’ asshole,” he merely grunted, rubbing his black eyes that had dark bags forming under them. Slight relief flooded through Tord, but he was still cautious. How the hell did he end up in Tom’s house, of all places? They despised each other, didn’t they? They literally hadn’t spoke a word to each other since middle school. Something had happened, but Tord didn’t think that remembering was important at the moment.

“What the . . . why - where - “ Tord didn’t know where to start, he had so many questions forming in his mind but he couldn’t voice any of them.

“You got drunk last night in a bar and got in a fight, remember?” Tom spat, glaring at the Norwegian, but he didn’t look too intimidating in onesies-pajamas. Tord could tell he was pissed. “You’re lucky I was there to save your sorry ass. I was _going_ to mind my business, but I tend to do stupid things when I’m drunk, like helping out people like you.”

 _Well, damn. Should I be insulted or just say thank you?_ Tord began to remember what happened in a much more clearer memory - “The guy that almost killed me was gigantic, wasn’t he?”

Tom scoffed. “Yeah, it was unbelievable, that guy. Honest to God, I don’t know how we got outta that shit alive. I almost crashed, like, five times on the way back. Got a couple fingers from other drivers. I don’t remember everything that happened, but - “

“Wait,” Tord asked slowly, “why . . . why did you help me?” he asked, almost feeling suspicious. Tom had never liked him. Did he expect something in return? Because if he did, he was dead wrong -

“I really don’t fuckin’ know,” he said with an eyeroll. “I got a couple bruises outta last night, and dragging you into my home at three o’clock in the morning was just as painful. I guess I didn’t want to let someone I know get beat up knowing I could do somethin’ about it. Courtesy and whatever. Mom raised me well. Etcetera.”

“Uh-huh,” Tord said, staring at Tom with a flurry of mixed feelings.

“What?” Tom asked, suddenly offended, “did you expect me to ask you for a favor or something in return? Cuz’ I’m not interested in whatever the hell you can offer me. I already know about your little drug dealing thing at school, and I don’t want in.”

Tord froze. Another memory flashed in his mind - that was why he had gone to the bar in the first place. He had to meet with someone to sell a bag of coke at the same street where the bar was, and that was when he decided to celebrate by having a drink or two. _I knew this was too risky. I should really stop before I get arrested again._

“Although I do have to admit,” Tom said, smiling a bit, “what you said to the guy while you were fighting was pretty hilarious. I don’t even know why I remember that so well.”

“What did I say?” Tord knew he was a silly, stupid drunkard when he drank enough.

“You two were yelling super loud at each other, and I swear I overheard you say ‘Norway will show you British asses how to treat your mothers! _Communism_!’ and you pulled off your belt and started hitting him with it.”

“Wait, what?” Tord said, laughing. Then he got up and stood, realizing that his pants weren’t on him. “That - that explains a lot, actually,” he said, embarrassed but tickled at the thought that he was proud of being a communist while he was getting beat up. “Damn, it hurts to laugh.”

Tom laughed for a bit. “Yeah, last night was definitely something. But I don’t think we got hurt too bad - unless you’re too weak to handle a couple bruises, that is . . . “

“Whatever, I’ll be fine. Thanks for . . . taking me into your home. And whatever you did last night. But you shouldn’t have put yourself in that spot like that, Tom. Next time, just let me deal with it.” Tord stretched, cracking various bones in his body, and grabbed his red hoodie that had been lying on the couch.  _None of this would have happened if I still had my guns that I left in Norway. I gotta go buy some new ones so stuff like this doesn't happen again._

“Gee, you’re welcome, Commie,” Tom said, a bit sarcastically. He knew Tord was putting on a strong front, but they both knew that the Norwegian would have been screwed if Tom hadn’t been there. “Do you . . . want me to take you home, or do ya wanna shower first?”

“A shower sounds delightful,” Tord drawled. Maybe the smell of alcohol was still on him, and a nice, hot shower would definitely clear his mind a little from his recent adrenaline rush.

Soon, Tom dropped off Tord at his aunt’s house, and they said their goodbyes. Tord was surprised by how well they’d interacted - there was still an awkward feel, but at least they were talking. His shoulders weren’t as tense as they used to be.

Tord cracked his knuckles and prepared himself to be interrogated by his aunt. _Perhaps I should call Travis later,_ he thought as he unlocked the door and welcomed himself inside.

Last night had been painfully fun.  



	3. Bruises & Basses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys have to go to school the day after the bar fight - why is Tord acting so sincere??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kinda short and honestly a bit unimportant but oh well it leads up to more important stuff so ENJOY

Getting up the next morning was hell for Tom. The fight from the night before had already taken a toll on his body, but the fact that he had to wake up early for school was absolutely horrid. What was the point of waking up at six o’clock when he knew he’d still come home late? Just another reason for him to want to graduate as soon as possible. _Thank God I’m a senior,_ he thought as he grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen cabinet and led himself outside.

“See ya later, Mom,” he called as he shut the door and ran to Edd, who’d been waiting for him the whole time. Since they lived close, and Edd got ready relatively faster than Tom, he’d wait for him and they’d meet Matt and Tord at school. Tom respected the fact that Edd and Tord were still friends, so he kinda just avoided him. “Sorry if I made ya wait long,” he said around a mouthful of granola. “I had to get an ice pack before I left, cuz the ones in the Nurse’s offices suck.”

“That’s okay. I only waited for like five minutes,” Edd chuckled, but his face suddenly grew dim. “Wait, ice pack? For what?” and the brunette gasped he finally noticed the multiple dark black-and-blue spots scattered across Tom’s arms. “Woah, Tom, what happened? You got in a fight?”

“Yeah, last night at a bar.” Tom hissed as the coldness of the ice stung with the pain of a particularly bad bruise near his elbow. “I swear I didn’t start it though. The guy was pickin’ with someone I knew, and my nosy stupid-ass self decided to butt in.”

_Please don’t ask who it was. Please don’t ask who it was._

“Shit, Tom, that guy totally _destroyed_ you,” Edd laughed, sounding both amused and serious. “I thought you didn’t go out to bars much, though.”

He shrugged. “I don’t. Too crowded. But I decided to try it out for one night just to see how it would go;   _forget_ it. Next time I’m only going if someone goes with me.”

For the rest of the walk, Edd pestered Tom with questions, demanding details of what happened. Tom didn’t mind, but he honestly felt uncomfortable as time went on. The way Edd awed over the whole thing made it seem like he was some sort of hero or something, and he’d gladly pass on that label. But it did make him ask himself - why _did_ he help Tord that night? He had gone as far as allowing the idiot to _spend the night_ at _his house._ He wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but Tom knew that he wouldn’t have fought for anyone else (with the exception of Edd and Matt). _Did I just feel bad for him? Or is it because I’ve known him so long that it came like second nature?_

Whatever, he supposed as the school started coming into view. He wouldn’t stress his pretty little head about it. Hopefully Tord will pretend that nothing had happened and that would be that.

 

“Morning, Edd! Morning, Tom!” a tall ginger wearing a plaid-patterned shirt exclaimed, waving his hand like he was fanning out a fire.

“Mornin,’ Matt!” Edd replied just as happily as he punched his arm. Tom said the same but not with much enthusiasm like the first two. How could anyone possibly be so cheerful at this time? Whatever Matt was taking, Tom needed some of it.

“Uh, where’s Tord?” Edd asked when he noticed that there wasn’t not one shade of red to be seen. Tom simply stayed silent and pretended that he didn’t hear anything, but in reality he was itching to know. Would Tord be absent because he still felt pain from the fight, or did he not want to face Tom after what happened?

“I think he said he was gonna go to the Nurse’s Office,” Matt said, scratching his head. “He had some sort of cut or something near his chin. And he had bruises, like, everywhere. He looked like he’d walked out of an action movie or something, it was crazy. And when I asked him what happened, he kinda avoided me - just said he got in a fight with someone last night and that’s it.”

 _Oh no,_ Tom thought when he saw Edd’s gears grinding in his head. “Really? Tom was telling me about how he got in a fight last night too! It was in a bar though . . . “

 _Please don’t catch on,_ Tom begged silently. The last thing he needed was for Edd and Matt to interrogate him about him and Tord’s . . . _interaction_ \- it wasn’t like he and Tord were friends or anything. The two had wanted Tom and Tord to make up and be friends again ever since the incident in middle school, although Tom couldn’t remember what happened that resulted in their spiteful tension . . . didn’t it have to do with a sleepover?

**_RRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNNG._ **

“What?” Edd said. “But we just got here.”

 _Thank God,_ Tom thought as relief swept through him. “Time flies when you're havin’ fun,” he said hastily as he hoisted his bookbag on his shoulder. “C’mon Edd, or we’ll be late.”

"Bye, Edd! Bye, Tim!" Matt waved as the two ran off.

 

 **.** **.** **.**

 

The day went by like it usually did for Tom - when fourth period ended, he got up from his desk and walked to his locker to get his bass. He usually walked with his friends when school was over, but Matt got signed out and Edd said that he had to hurry home to take Ringo to the vet. Tom took advantage of his free time by playing his bass outside; it usually calmed him down, and it was a considerably bright day out.

He walked outside with Susan, whistling as he smiled. He sat down on the last step of a staircase that led to the school exit and popped open the bass holder, but for some reason he couldn’t adjust his bass properly; the tune on all of the strings were off, and no matter how hard he tried to turn the tuning pegs they wouldn’t function.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered as he continued to struggle with the problem at hand. This was totally new to him. Susan had gone through a lot, but he always found a way to fix her himself, but what about now? He must’ve been sitting here for at least fifteen minutes trying to -

“What’s wrong?” a voice with a thick accent asked behind him, and he froze in his place. _Tord? What does he want? Should I ignore him?_

Tom sighed, deciding that being rude wouldn’t solve anything. “Something’s wrong with my bass, and I don’t know what it is.”

Tord nodded slightly and did something Tom didn’t expect - he took a seat next to Tom and extended his hand. “Mind if I take a look?”

Tom inched back a little, feeling suspicious. “Woah, hold on,” he said, a little annoyed but also a little scared, “why do ya wanna see my bass?” _Why do you wanna be nice all of a sudden? Why do you want to talk to me after years of not saying a word?_

Tord sucked his teeth, looking irritated. “What do you mean, why? To see if I can help you out. I may not be a rocket scientist, but I know a thing or two about - “

“But why do you want to help . . . _me_?” Tom asked. He noticed that the Norwegian had a bandaid on the lower right side of his face, near his chin. Memories of the bar fight, Tord sleeping over, and Matt’s input on Tord’s visit to the Nurse’s Office replayed in his mind.

Tord sighed, unable to look at the Brit in the eye. He was staring at Tom’s bruises. “I dunno, as a way to . . .  say thank you, I guess,” he spoke softly. Tom was dumbstruck. _Tord? Saying thank you?_

“I told you before not to worry about it,” he said in a more calmer tone. “You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to, ya know. I could always call a bass shop in town and make an appointment, so you don’t have to waste your time - “

“I’m sorry,” Tord blurted out.

Now Tom was confused. “Huh?”

Tord had a flurry of words he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to voice them. “I mean, I - What I meant to say was . . . okay, let’s start over. Are you doing anything today?”

“No,” Tom said slowly.

“I think I can fix your bass, but it would be better to do it at home rather than outside.” Tord was hoping he’d get the hint.

“Okay, what’s the catch?” He'd always imagined Tord to be proud, stuck-up, arrogant, and just straight up greedy - he'd heard of the guy selling drugs as well. Drug dealers were always expecting something in return, right? There was no way Tord was going to voluntarily do something nice for Tom without throwing a price tag on there.

“Nothing,” Tord said, shrugging, and Tom could read in his face that he wasn’t lying - and if he was, he was one hell of a good liar. Tom thought about it for a minute. Tom wouldn’t mind making the appointment at some music shop, but that would take at least three days and cost some money.

“Will this take long?”

Tord chuckled. “You ask a lot of questions, Tom. It depends on the problem, but from the looks of it the bass doesn’t seem to be too damaged.”

Tom finally gave in. “Fine. I don’t know why you wanna do it so bad, but whatever. Just don’t break it. Let’s go,” he said, and the two got up from their seats and began to take Tom’s route home.

In reality, Tord was doing this because he wanted to talk to Tom. Oh, he’d fix the bass, but there will definitely be some conversation while he’s at it. The brick wall that had been built between the two needed to be checked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord are both so stubborn oml  
> I know some of you might be waiting for the violence part to show up but I swear it will . . . you'll see ;)
> 
> also just wanted to thank Painful_Panda for writing a oneshot I requested that's similar to what happened here :)


	4. Lies & Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Tom and Tord are in the process of fixing the Brit's bass, Travis is in Norway getting ready to leave . . .  
> but was that the smart thing to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasnt gonna post this chapter till 2moro but im too excited to wait oml

**Meanwhile, in Norway . . .** **  
**

Two days after Travis had decided to run away, he began to pack his things.

“You’re leaving?” his mother asked, her voice shrill and unbelieving as she asked the question. “For what, Travis? And where did you say it was? Why would you need to go that far in the first place?”

Travis cringed at the situation he was in. Trying to explain himself to his mother was almost as scary as the idea of fighting his gang leader. “Yes, Mom, I’m leaving. To a hotel in Trondheim. For a month, as most. It’s not very far from here.” He handed her a business card with the hotel’s name on it: Scandic Nidelven.

“Any _why_ do you have to go over there for so long?” she asked impatiently, her arms crossed and her foot tapping like she was listening to rock. The way she looked at her son with such a skeptical look annoyed him, but he had to admit that he couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. He’d done a lot of horrible things over the years that neither of them were truly proud of.

“I have a friend over there who told me about a place that’s hiring,” he said without a stutter. He’d practiced and rehearsed this lie for a while now. “It’s a temporary job, but they’re willing to pay real good. I swear when I come back you won’t have to pay for rent for months.”

Her frown only deepened at the statement, which turned Travis’ annoyance into guilt. “That sounds too good to be true, Travis. This is such a last-minute trip. I don’t get why you’re such in a rush . . . “ her gaze landed on the small bag of clothes and belongings that had been adjusted perfectly on his shoulders.

Why was lying suddenly starting to get harder for him? “Apparently they need guys to come in as soon as possible if they want to take their positions. I can’t risk taking my time and losing the chance.”

He had to bend down and kiss his mother on the cheek, since he was so tall and she so short. But his mother wouldn’t accept just a kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. “Please, son, don’t get into any trouble out there, okay? I know you’re twenty-four, so I can’t stop you from doing what you want, but . . . just know that I love you. You’ve been a huge help.”

Travis gulped as he buried his face into his mother’s neck, her thick, shiny copper-colored hair smelling of fruit-scented conditioner. He didn’t really notice how much his mother had gone through until now - having an undependable drunkard husband who ended up divorcing her, being a single mom with a low-paying job, raising a son who decided to join a gang and ruin his chances of having a bright future - and he never really thought about showing his appreciation to her as much either. Helping her pay the rent and bills and keeping her safe from his gang was the very least Travis could do for her now.

“I love you too, mom. Keep the doors and windows locked, okay? It isn’t safe out here.”

“Of course, son,” she said, giving a playful eye roll as she pulled away from him. “I’m sure your little brother would be proud.”  
She kissed his cheek one more time, and he stepped outside of his home, closing his eyes, and opening them again as he welcomed the wind hitting his face. As he began to walk rather quickly to avoid being seen, his mother’s most recent statement echoed in his mind. _Would_ Tord appreciate the fact that he was quitting his gang so he could be a better role model for his little bro? Or would he not care? Should Travis just go back and forget the plans and return to the old routine?

 _No, it’s too late to go back,_ he thought. The lies had been told. All he could do now his hope that his plans would go through with no problems.

 

. . .

The dark figure had to be careful. Any wrong move he made, may it be just as simple as stepping on a piece of gravel, and it could cost him and his gang members the whole mission. He had to turn wherever Travis turned and stop whenever Travis stopped. He seemed to be walking for hours now - how the hell could Travis do the walk alone? It was ridiculous, how far this man was willing to walk from his home to the hideout. That seemed like a whole lot of commitment, for someone who was planning to quit.

They suspected Travis of such a crime when he didn’t show up for the weekly meetings yesterday. These things were incredibly important and mandatory for every gang member acquainted; even if you were a rookie you were still expected to be there. It had to deal with upcoming drug deals, weapon trafficking, and anything of the like - as a way to plan things ahead of time so nothing could go wrong. You could only be excused if you let them know ahead of time as to why you couldn’t be there - if you didn’t, they had there reasons of finding out. The risk of betrayal was not taken lightly.

Finally, Travis started walking on a street that had blocks worth of houses, apartments, and condos. The shadow watched the man from a distance, breathing quietly out of his mouth so he wouldn’t make as much noise, until he saw him walk into a house. _Bingo._

The shadow obtained the address quickly, and waited to see if Travis would come back out. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, Travis opened the door again, this time with a backpack, and kissing a woman on a cheek - presumably his mother. The dark figure smirked as he watched Travis look around, as if making sure no one was in sight, and begin to walk in a fast pace.

How stupid could this guy get? As strong, quick and fearless as he was, he sure didn’t know how to take heed to warnings. The shadow’s job has been done. He would have to return to The Boss with the new information he had received.

Travis would be off the hook for now, but they’d have plenty of fun finding out where he was going in the meantime . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what u guys think is gonna happen next!!  
> (then again you readers are smart af so i wouldnt be surprised if someone hits the jackpot right away lol)


	5. Confessions - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord touch on some rather sensitive topics while the bass is gettin' fixed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on making this part of the fanfic so long but it's the turning point in Tom and Tord's relationship so -  
> forgive me if you came for the violence cuz it's not gonna come till like Chapter 12? (i cant wait for it either i know im sorry ;-;)  
> but until then enjoy this long-ass list of dialogue between our dorkos :)))
> 
> **References from the 1st part of the series is made here - Chapter 3 is where you wanna go if you wanna know more about Tord's parents/childhood (you don't have to read it if u don't want to it's not a big deal)

 

 

“How far is your house from here, Tom?”

The two had stayed quiet as they walked slowly to the Brit’s house, the birds and the whistling of the wind talking for them. Tom was still unsure of Tord’s motives for insisting on fixing his bass, but he tried to push away the worst-case scenarios from his mind and prayed that the boy’s intentions weren’t meant for harm.

“Calm down, Commie, we’re almost there.” Tom gave a nearby pebble a small kick.

“Wait - ‘Commie?’ “ Tord repeated, giving the other male a confused and uncertain look.

“Well, yeah. Remember when you screamed about your faith in communism at the bar and almost got yourself killed?”

“ . . . Oh. Well, that’s not fair. You can’t just call me Commie without asking for my consent!” Tord was half-joking and half-serious. As simple and silly as it sounded, it kind of had a nice ring to it. But where - and  _ why _ \- did Tom get the idea of giving his rival a nickname?

Was the word "rivals" even an appropriate phrase to describe themselves at this point?

“What, I’m supposed to ask for your permission?” he replied sarcastically, and Tord wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not; that serious expression of his stayed on Tom’s face almost all the time. He figured that it was because of Tord being there, but it could be something else - only Tom knew, after all.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks unexpectedly, almost making Tord bump into him. “We’re here. C’mon.” He turned from the sidewalk and walked to his house door.

Tord had only been to Tom’s place once - twice, if he counted their hungover sleepover - and he had never really payed attention to how  _ lovely  _ it was. It was the only word he could think of to describe it accurately. While Tom walked in, Tord couldn’t help but look at the healthy green grass and pearly white fences and baby blue painting of the house.

Tord’s house in Norway looked the same, but everything that happened inside wasn’t exactly as pretty as the exterior. A very faint and nostalgic feeling numbed his gut, but he quickly shook it off as he slowly followed Tom inside.

 

. . .

“You can put your stuff there, if ya want,” Tom said pointing at the corner of a couch. It was the same couch Tord had woken up on after the bar fight. He nodded and placed his bookbag there, and Tom put his stuff on the opposite side.

“Tom? Are you home?” a deep, male voice asked from upstairs, which made Tord freeze and Tom groan. 

“No, Alex, it’s the robber that planned to break in at midnight while your family slept. Just thought I’d let you know ahead of time.”

Tord couldn’t help it - he snorted, but tried hard to hold back his laughs. Tom’s lip twitched in amusement, but became visibly annoyed when another voice, a female, responded:

“Thomas, what did I tell you about talking to your stepfather that way?”

“Sorry, Mom. I brought someone over. They’re gonna fix my bass.”

“Tell your friend I said hi, sweetie. I can’t get up right now, I’m a little busy polishing my - “

“MOM! We don’t need to know that . . . “

Tom facepalmed in embarrassment while the two adults laughed. Tord blinked as he tried to analyze what was happening. “Your parents . . . seem friendly enough.”

“ _ Parent, _ ” he corrected, beginning to make his way to a nearby hallway. “Sorry you had to witness that, by the way. I’m gonna go take a shower and hopefully wash my mind of everything I heard. You can have Susan and do your magic while I do that.” He handed Tord the bass case, very,  _ very  _ reluctantly and cautiously, like he was handing his life over to the communist.

“Today would be nice, Tom,” Tord said, amused at how protective he was of this inanimate object.

“I swear to God, Tord, if I see so much as a scratch on my bass - “

“Chill  _ out,  _ Thomas,” Tord quipped, smirking slyly, “Once I’m done, your  _ Susan  _ will be as good as new. Promise.”

Tom glared at Tord before walking to the bathroom. Tord’s smile soon faded as he sighed, making himself comfortable on the couch as he took out the bass, beginning to check it out.

. . .

Tom released the exasperated breath he’d been holding in ever since he and Tord had walked home from school. He closed his eyes and allowed the hot sprinkling water hit his face, seep through his hair, and shower the rest of his body. This helped his lose some of the tension that had been building up in his shoulders and muscles for the past few hours.

He knew Tord was an expert at fixing things and inventing and creating and anything of the like. He was sure Susan was in good hands . . . but he still had doubt, and he wasn’t sure if he was doubting the guy sitting in his living room couch or doubting himself.

He didn’t want to admit that he was wrong, but was Tord really as bad as he thought he was? The times that they’ve interacted weren’t horrible - if anything, he almost felt  _ relaxed -  _ and that scared him. He and Tord could relate to a couple of things, he was sure, but his darkest secret was that he was afraid to open himself up to him and risk making a big mistake.  _ Would he just laugh and push me away? _

Tom’s wet fists clenched tightly. What the hell was he thinking? That he and Tord could actually be friends? They were polar opposites, weren’t they? There’s no way he felt any sort of charisma towards the Norwegian.

_ If that were true, you wouldn’t have let him into your house in the first place, now would you? _

. . .

“How’s it goin,’ Tord?” he asked once he got out the shower and changed clothes. He only sported a black T-shirt with a white skull and a pair of black jeans. Tord could see that his hair hadn’t dried completely. “Is she good?”

“Well, the good news is that I found out what’s wrong with it -  _ her,”  _ he corrected himself. “But there’s something I need in order to fix the tuning pegs. When you got the bass, did it come with, like, a box of parts and tools and stuff?”

“Yeah, it did. It might be in my room, I’ll go get it.” Tom left and came back with a small black box and handed it to Tord, then sat next to him - not too close, but not too far either - just enough for Tom to see what Tord was doing to his cherished object.

For the next few minutes, the two sat silently, Tom looking at Tord worked while Tord’s flexible fingers worked on the instruments. “Do you play this thing a lot?” Tord asked as he unscrewed a small part of the bass and tweaked with it a little bit.

“Yeah, when I have the time to. Sometimes I can’t play it cuz my lame-ass step dad complains about the noise or the teachers say my songs are ‘not appropriate for school.’”

Tord chuckled. “I can imagine, the crimes that you and your precious Susan can commit.”

Tom wondered if he was making fun of him or if he was just trying to be lighthearted. Either so, he only nodded quietly. “Yeah, me and her have had some pretty good times.”

“How long have you had her?”

“Ever since I was little. Probably eight.”

“Eight?” Tord exclaimed. “You could play this thing when you were eight years old?”

“First of all, Commie, stop referring to Susan as a  _ ‘thing _ .’ Second, I’ve been practicing with her for as long as I can remember. My dad got it for me.”

_ His dad. Not his stepdad.  _ Tord kept that in mind and decided not to press on the subject unless Tom wanted to. Perhaps his father left? Or died? Maybe that was why Tom was always so solemn. Tord knew what it was like to have a sucky father figure, to want to have a better one but knowing you probably never could.

“So, can I ask you something?” Tord asked.

“You just did, Commie.”

“Very funny. What is it like having a stepfather?”

Tom fell quiet as he thought about it. Tord took it the wrong way. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I wo - “

“No, no, I’m good,” Tom said, waving it off. “I just wanted to think of the most logical way of explaining it without sounding like a dick.”

The two laughed, and he continued. “Okay, but in all seriousness - it depends on the person. Some step parents are pretty cool and treat their families like gold, while others are just impossible to stand. Like Alex.”

Tord chuckled lightly, his eyes caught on the bass. Then his smile faded into something sadder and distant as he remembered his father, who’d left him when he was just ten, who treated him like he was never good enough. If his mother had remarried, would his stepfather treat him better, or worse?

His frown didn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, you alright?”

He snapped to attention, giving Tom a quick glance. His black eyes were curious, maybe even a little concerned - but maybe that was all just in Tord’s head. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said casually, looking at the bass again.

Tom figured it was time for a change of subject. “So, how did you get into inventing?”

“Funny you bring that up, actually. My dad was the one who taught me all about it when I was in Norway. He would give me books to read  it all the time.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised. “Oh. Sounds like a cool guy.”

Tord’s eyes hardened, and his expression suddenly went cold. “No. He wasn’t. He made me take an interest in that stuff because he didn’t want me to ‘be weak.’ He pressured me to study when I wanted to have fun.” He didn’t mention the alcohol abuse, the physical abuse, nor the verbal arguments.

The Brit blinked by the sudden turn in the conversation. He knew that Tord had been living with his aunt and her family, but had never even thought about what his parents were like. “Wow, my bad. I . . . I didn’t know that. Kinda sounds like my stepdad.”

Tord stopped to crack his neck, various popping sounds resounding from the action. “Oh, trust me, it was more complicated than you think. I guess we’re more alike than we thought, Thomas. I’m done, by the way.”

“Really?” he looked at the bass that rested in Tord’s hands, which handed it to Tom. He picked at some of the strings and was surprised to realize that he really  _ had  _ fixed Susan - and it had only been a short time. “Wow, she sounds great. Thanks, Tord. Did you want me to pay you, or - “

“Don’t worry about it, Tom,” he said, getting up from the couch. He assumed that Tom wanted him to leave. “It was no big deal. Hope you enjoy her - “

“Wait, you . . . “ Tom hesitated. “You don’t have to leave right away. We’ve only been here for like, a half hour.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated for me to stay, I mean, unless you really,  _ really  _ want me to . . . “

“I mean, it’s not like I’m  _ begging  _ for you to stay,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just saying, it’s a long walk to home from here, and I’m sure you don’t wanna spend money on a cab, am I right?”

Tom made a good point, he supposed. Besides, he was starting to get comfortable around the Brit - perhaps a bit  _ too _ comfortable? “Yeah, you’re right. I wouldn’t mind crashing for a little bit. Your couch is comfortable as hell, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooooo frickin' sorry this chapter was late  
> the author of this angsty-and-soon-to-be-violent-af-fanfic got sick  
> apparently it was a 24-hour virus,,,, (that's a thing??)  
> oh well i feel better now but damn headaches are the WORST.  
> btw when Tom says “I just wanted to think of the most logical way of explaining it without sounding like a dick” u can totally blame my friend for that i just found it when I asked her to revise ._.
> 
> Part two of Confessions is gonna be more funnier, prolly more angstier, and more action-y so s t a y t u n e d
> 
> Also just wanted to give a H U G E thanks to everyone who's enjoying my complicated-ass writing, you guys are awesome <33  
> I appreciate feedback as well, throw comments at me  
> like Ixdigo for example is incredibly good at that shiz, props to em and CHECK OUT THEIR WORKS THEY GOOD AFFF


	6. Confessions - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord get tipsy and they begin to remember why they became enemies in the first place -  
> and they actually find comfort in each other ig??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **references from chapters 4 and 5 in part one of this series are made in this chapter (you don't need to go read the whole thing but if you wanna then go ahead :)**

“So,” Tord asked casually, leaning back into the couch slightly and smirking at Tom, “what was your mother polishing, exactly?”

“Shut up,” Tom muttered, getting up from the couch and grabbing two bottles of Smirnoff. He wondered if allowing Tord to stay in his house was such a good idea. What compelled him to suggest this idiot to hang out in the first place?

He came back and asked him if he wanted a drink, but before Tord could answer he threw a bottle in the Norwegian’s direction. Taken by surprise, Tord almost dropped it, the bottle fumbling in his hands until he stared at the logo and realize that he’d been offered  _ the stuff.  _ “Uh . . . Tom, are you sure - “

“Yeah, I don’t care,” he said, plopping on the couch and turning the TV on, taking a swing of  _ the stuff _ . Perhaps the alcohol would make things a bit less complicated. He was still trying to figure out what he was going on between him and Tord - were they friends? Enemies? Frenemies?

“Alright, then,” Tord quipped as he took a gulp, closing his eyes as he let the cold vodka burn down his throat. A tiny doubt pinched his stomach as he remembered the last time he got drunk, but he reminded himself that they weren’t at a bar and there was no way that anything could get out of hand - especially now that Tom’s parents were right above them.

 

**. . .**

 

For a while, the pair just flipping through pointless channels and occasionally drinking from their bottles, the sounds of the television occupying the silence. Tord wished there was some way he could start up a conversation, like the one he and Tom were having while he was fixing his bass. Sure, it was short, but it had meant something to him - the two could somewhat relate to their dads, and that was something that he didn’t talk to  _ anyone _ about. There was something about Tom that made Tord - dare he say it - relaxed? Comfortable?  _ Happy _ ? But the tension that had been sparking between them for years hadn’t faded away, and he wanted to know what happened that separated the two from being friends.

Suddenly, something caught the boys’ attention - a trailer for a movie came on. It was a movie based on a game they used to play back in middle school.

“Hold on,” Tom said, recognizing the character’s designs and familiar dramatic music as it continued. “Isn’t this . . .  _? _

“What the  _ fuck?”  _ Tord gasped, leaning forward and registering it in his head. “Jesus Christ _ ,  _ I used to  _ love _ this game! I can’t believe they’re making a movie out of it!”

“Didn’t we play this once?” Tom asked, glancing at Tord, who was already starting to feel a bit tipsy. Tom could sustain alcohol better, since he drank it on a daily basis - it took him a few more drinks for him to  _ really  _ start feeling it. For now, he was decently sober and some memories that he thought were long gone starting replaying in his head.

“I . . . I think we did,” Tord said, sounding like he just woke up - groggy and distant. “Wasn’t it at Edd’s house? In seventh or eighth grade?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom agreed, blinking. They were onto something. “It was a sleepover, at Edd’s place. Matt was there too . . . didn’t he drop a hair blower in the tub?”

“Yeah, while he was still in it,” Tord laughed.

“Shit, I’m surprised we still remember that,” Tom said, taking another gulp of Smirnoff. “Then we were watching _ The Insane Pirate Zombies From Hell III,  _ and . . . “ he froze. “Didn’t we have a fight that night, Tord?”

“What? You mean the one at the bar? That was two days ago -”

“No, dumbass, the sleepover, remember? At Edd’s?”

“A fight?” 

“Well, I don’t think it was a  _ physical  _ fight, but it was definitely an argument.”

Tord squinted at the air as he thought hard. He saw himself sitting next to Edd, Matt, and Tom as the movie played, making fun of the actors. Then he pulled out his phone, and he was texting someone . . . and Tom had started teasing him about it.

“You were teasing me. About my phone, how the model was old and how no one had it anymore. Then you asked me if I was texting my ‘lover from Norway.’”

Tom snapped his fingers. “Yes, I did. Then we started to argue . . . “ his voice trailed off as the insults were flooding back into his mind.

“You made fun of my hentai.”

“You made fun of my eyes. And my parents, how they weren’t human.”

Silence. They were both pretty sensitive about those subjects, and they began to remember why they hated each other for so long. But that was years ago, wasn’t it? They could forget about it, right? “But, your eyes . . . they’re pretty cool.”

Tom looked at him, surprised, wondering if he should be offended. Was that a joke? “What?”

“Seriously. I mean, I’m not gonna lie I was kinda scared to ask you about them when I first saw you, but they’re interesting. Fascinating even.” Tord was telling the truth - he had always thought Tom’s eyes made him look badass - but the vodka was making him sound a bit sappy. “I’m surprised scientists haven’t knocked on your door to study your DNA and shit.”

Tom blinked. “Wow, uh . . . thanks, I guess.” No one had ever complimented him on his eyes before. Ever. “Oh, and that’s where you’re wrong, by the way. People have asked us if they could interview us on our family tree and genes and perform experiments on us to learn more about my eyes, but I’d just slam the door. Did they really think I would say yes?”

They laughed again. “God, we’re so lame. Sorry if you got all butthurt over your hentai, by the way. I didn’t know it was that important to you.”

“It’s not just that,” Tord said, giving a hiccup before continuing. “It was supposed to be private! But you yelled that shit to the whole class! Remember?”

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay, I’ll admit that was wrong of me, but let’s be real - Edd asking about your cartoon porn in fifth grade was funny as hell. But . . . how did that argument even start in the first place?”

“Which one?”

“The one at the sleepover, in eighth grade.”

“Oh . . . you made fun of my phone, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Why were you so offended by that? I was just joking at the time.”

Tord went quiet, and he sobered up a bit at that. He remembered the reason quite clearly, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to share it. After mulling over it, he figured,  _ why not? _

“I was reading a text from my brother in Norway.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised a bit at that. “Oh? You have a brother?”

“Yeah. His name is Travis. He texted me that night.”

“Oh.” Tom let that sink in for a bit. “Okay, but what does that have to do with - “

“I was upset at the time, alright? I missed him, I wanted to see him. I thought he was the shit, Tom. But it was my dad’s fault that I never got to see him as much as I used to.”

Tom looked over at the communist and saw that he was truly hurt. He stared at the bottle of vodka, and he knew that he was thinking about his brother. “Would you mind if I asked you what happened?”

Tord chuckled bitterly at the question, drinking more. “Tom, I haven’t talked to anyone about my childhood, and I’ve already told you much more than I should have. Tell me why you want me to spill the beans if we’re probably going to forget about it the next morning? How are you going to benefit from anything I say? We’ve been avoiding each other for years, and now I’m drinking vodka in your home and we’re telling each other things that we wouldn’t want our own parents to know, so why are you suddenly interested in hearing my life story? Are you going to write a book?”

Tom gulped at the question. He was right, and he hated to admit it. But he did have a somewhat reasonable answer, but it would kill him to say it. Hopefully Tord wouldn’t make fun of him for saying it.

“First of all, no, I’m not planning to write anything in the near future, but I’ll admit that part of what you said is true - I would have never expected to find myself sitting next to you, of all people, drinking my favorite beverage and bonding over shitty father figures. But I wanna talk to you about this because I  _ know _ that you wanna talk about it. You’ve been wanting to talk about it for years, but you didn’t know who to talk to.” He paused. “You have trust issues. And believe me, I do too, and that’s okay. But, recently, I’ve learned that you can’t keep stuff like this bottled up for long, cuz it’s gonna keep building up and eventually it’s gonna explode. So it’s better if you just let it out now, yeah? And you’re right, we’re both are probably gonna forget half the shit that’s gonna be said, but that’s okay cuz at least that shit is out of your chest.”

Tord stared at him with those piercing silver eyes and an equally piercing look for what seemed like ages, and Tom knew he had blown it. He wasn’t planning to get all emotional and make a speech like that. He sounded like a fucking counselor.

“Eh, you make a good point,” Tord shrugged as he sat up from his slouched position and stretched. Tom was utterly baffled at the male before him. Tord was really something, huh? “Get ready for story time. But on one exception.”

“What?”

“I don’t mind you calling me ‘Commie,’ as ridiculous as that sounds, but you have to let me call you something too. Cuz that’s not fucking fair.”

“Oh. Is that all? Well, I can think of a million things for you to make fun of me of. Eyeless, Pineapple Head, I dunno, Smirnoff . . . ? “

“You gotta do better than that,” Tord sighed, sounding bored as he laid his head back.

“Well, my family is filled with Jehovah Witnesses, if that helps.” Tom covered his mouth, his black eyes wide. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to know that!”

“Oh really?” Tord smirked mischievously as he cracked his knuckles. “Jehova it is, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *if u wanna read/know more about what happened at Edd's sleepover, it's chapter 5 in the 1st part of the series*  
> **if u wanna read/know more about what happened when Tom announced Tord's hentai obsession in class, it's chapter 4 in the 1st part of the series**  
> but as mentioned before, you don't have to cuz either way you'll get the gist that Tom and Tord had some problems in the past that are finally getting fixed years later
> 
> also i noticed that Edd and Matt have barely been mentioned in this fanfic yet but i swear next chapter they'll get some spotlight cuz i love those boiyos too <33
> 
> fun fact i just found out the other day that we could put bios and whatever in our profiles and mine was blank for months so i just updated it if you wanna learn more about me (im so dumb lol)  
> i put 0 effort in it btw but it's something aNYWAYS IM GOING TO SLEEP WHY AM I AWAKEE


	7. Acting Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord are almost late to school - but that's the least of their worries. How are they going to explain themselves to Edd and Matt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could use some circletine rn  
> anyways hope you enjoy this as much as i do!! (each chapter takes me like an hour to write cuz i constantly revise & edit it)

 

_“Jesus, Tord,” Tom slurred, his speech clearly out of function as he looked at the male beside him. “Your life kinda sucked.”_

_The two guys were happily seated in front of the television, oblivious to how late it was. The light that blared from the screen illuminated the shadows of the night outside._

_“I know,” Tord replied, just as groggily as he took a sip of the last couple of drops in his bottle.  “In a way I wished I brought at least one gun I left back at home so I could contemplate suicide. But, can I tell you something, Jehova?”_

_“Tom,” the Brit growled, but secretly amused by the nickname. “And what?”_

_“I . . . (hic) I’m kinda glad, actually, that all that shit happened to me.”_

_“What the hell, Tord? Why? Nothing good came out of that.”_

_“But that - that’s where fuckin’ fate comes in. What do you think would have happened to me if I stayed in Norway? I could have ran away, I could have gotten myself killed for doing something stupid. Because that’s what I do best.”_

_They laughed, but Tord continued. “No, seriously, the best part is . . . I’m glad to have moved to England. Sure, nobody over here are communists and the wheel of every car is on the right side, but I got to meet you and Edd and Matt.”_

_“Me? Even me?” Tom chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned back._

_“Yes, even you. We’ve had our asshole moments, but you’re not as bad as I thought you were. Thanks.”_

_“Oh? A thank you? For what?_

_“For listening to me. No one has ever listened to me like that before, ever since I’ve moved from Norway. You’re something else, Tom.”_

_It soon fell quiet as the two slowly fell asleep, passed out on the couch together with their arms touching.Tom's parents, who both worked nightshift, walked by the pair as the headed out, certain that the two boys would be responsible for their own actions. The quiet sounds of the TV served as their lullaby as they drifted off into a content and mutual slumber, their hearts tickled by the rather unusual turn of events that neither of the two thought would ever happen._

_But nothing could ever prepare them for what was coming in the future._

 

**. . .**

 

“Tom,” a voice said, sounding a bit worried as a pair of hands shook his tired body. “Tom, get up, you lazy ass.”

The Brit groaned as his vision struggled to make out the figure before him, and his mind was too foggy for him to recognize the voice. He just knew it sounded a bit desperate. “Wha . . . ?”

The light from outside almost blinded him, and he eventually figured out that he hadn’t woken up in his bedroom. He felt a bottle of Smirnoff in his hand and remembered that he had been drinking in the living room.

“Tom, wake _up,_ ” Tord whispered fiercely, almost begging, his accent a bit thicker with panic.

The accent is what got him up. Tom blinked a bit as Tord’s caramel-colored hair and horns came into view. “What’s goin’ on, Commie?” he said, still tired and incredibly out of focus.

“We have school, Thomas. We’re going to be late. And I got 20 missed calls from my aunt,” he squeaked, scrolling through his phone with wide eyes.

Tom’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh - Oh SHIT,” he hissed, scrambling off the couch and grabbing the phone from his pocket. _7:02 AM._ “School starts at 7:25 . . . “ he muttered, trying to think of some sort of plan. “Tord, chill out, we can still make it. We just gotta . . . sober up a bit, that’s all.”

“Sober up?!” Tord quietly screeched. “My aunt is going to _kill me!_ I was supposed to go home last night and I never did because my dumbass passed out on your comfortable-ass couch - “

“ _Tord,_ ” Tom said firmly, grabbing the Norwegian’s arm, and he stopped pacing and actually payed attention. “Calm down. As long as she didn’t call the cops and report you missing, you’ll be fine. We don’t have a lot of time though, we’ve gotta shower so we don’t smell like alcohol when we walk in school and get suspended.”

Tord gulped, looking at Tom with frantic eyes. “I won’t . . . I won’t get in trouble?”

Tom was confused. He almost sounded like a kid when he asked that, so scared and worried that he was going to get smacked like those calls were from his mom or somethi -

_Wait . . . Didn’t he tell me something about his dad . . . ?_

Who knows how strict, and mean, Tord’s father could have been. Tom tried to smile as he patted his arm. “You’ll be alright, Tord. She might be a little upset, but she’d understand once we explain what happened, okay? Now go take a shower while I pick out some clothes for us to wear.”

“Wait . . . but I didn’t bring any extra clothes, Tom.” He was sure that the clothes we was wearing right now smelled of vodka.

“That’s why I said I’d get _us_ some clothes. I’m sure there’s something in my closet that you could wear.”

“Oh. Thanks,” he said as he made his way to the shower. He’d have to call his aunt back soon and tell her that he had “slept over” a friend’s house. Hopefully she had assumed that was what he did and she would understand. He had never broken a rule like that in her house, but he prayed that he wouldn’t find out the consequences if he did.

 

**. . .**

“Tom! Are you oversleeping again?” Edd called from outside of his friend’s house, doing his daily duty of waiting for the sluggish male to come out so they could walk together like they always did. “Tooooooooom . . . “

The green-hooded male wondered if Tom had decided to stay home today. He never missed school without letting him or Matt know ahead of time, so this was totally new to Edd. _Should I just leave, or knock on the door?_ He decided on the latter, wanting to play it safe, and marched to Tom’s door and knocked. “Hello?”

No answer, but he could hear voices on the other side. They were both muffled, so he couldn’t make out who the voices belonged too - he could tell that they sounded anxious and worried. Edd blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, not wanting to be nosy nor wanting to intervene with whatever was going on.

 _Probably just him and him stepdad arguing again or something,_ Edd concluded as he stepped down the porch steps and waiting five more minutes before going to school. He didn’t want to leave Tom if he was in there, but he couldn’t risk being late either. Maybe Matt knew where Tom was.

 

**. . .**

“Tom? Are you done?” Tord called from the living room, already showered and dressed and ready to go. He wasn’t going to lie, Tom’s clothes were quite comfortable and he was tempted to fall asleep in them.

“Yeah, gimme a minute,” Tom called back as he threw on a black jacket over himself and walked into the living room, and he chuckled a bit at the sight of Tord wearing his clothes.

“What’s so funny?” Tord asked, his knee bouncing anxiously.

“Nothin.’ You just look different with my clothes on.”

“Ha ha,” he replied sarcastically, grabbing his bookbag and motioning for Tom to follow him. “C’mon, we’ve gotta go, or we’ll be late. I have a chemistry test that I will _not_ stay after school for.”

“We’re already kinda late, when you think about it. Why do ya care so much anyway? You look like the guy that wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Normally I wouldn’t, but I’ve already been tardy a few times before and I’m not in the mood to get a detention. Now walk faster.”

“Wait,” Tom said, looking over to Tord, “How - what woke you up so early in the first place? Cuz when I pass out after drinking I sleep till the afternoon.”

“Uh . . . I think I heard someone yelling outside?” Tord said, unsure. “I honestly don’t know. I’m pretty sure I heard your name, I think?”

Tom thought about it, and his eyes widened at the realization of it. _That could have been Edd_ , he thought as he rubbed the back of his neck, which was growing hot with shame. _What should I tell him once we get there and he sees me with Tord? I hope he and Matt won’t swarm us with questions._

Explaining what happened last night would be hard to do.

 

**. . .**

Tom and Tord’s walk to school consisted of simple talk that neither of them minded - everything that went down the night before made them much more comfortable around each other, which relieved Tord, who was afraid that things would go back to being awkward once they went sober. Seeing Tom ignore him, or glare at him, from a distance wasn’t something he’d miss.

They saw Edd and Matt from a distance, and the two waved at them as they walked towards them. They both had weird expressions on their faces - like they were both shocked and confused.

“Hey Tom! Hey, Tord,” Edd said, trying to sound peppy but was actually cautious. These two were never seen together, so why did they come to school walking together? “Tom, I was waiting for you outside, where were you?”

“Sorry, Edd,” he muttered, unable to meet Edd in the eye. “I . . . I must’ve been in the shower or something, cuz I didn’t really hear you callin’ me at the time.”

 _Wow, what a lame excuse,_ he thought, but he prayed Edd would take it and leave it at that. Edd simply nodded, still feeling uncertain with the sudden turn of events, but let it be.

“So you came with Tom today?” Matt asked Tord, obviously surprised, with no attempt of making the situation any less subtle. “That’s a first. Didja sleep over his house or somethin’?”

Tord cleared his throat and looked down. _Damn, Matt could be a dunce but he caught into things pretty damn quick._ “Uh . . . sure. I needed to fix his bass, and I ended up staying there longer than I planned to.”

“Oh.” Matt and Edd spoke at the same time. Then Edd’s face broke into a wide smile. “That’s great, actually! We can all hang out as a group again!”

**_RRRRIIIIIIRIIIIIIINNNNNG._ **

Tom rolled his eyes. “God, already? This is why I hate showing up to school late. I’ll see you guys in lunch?”

“Yeah,” they all replied in unison. As he and Edd began to walk to first period together, Edd suddenly stopped and turned around. “Wait, Matt! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Uh . . . sure, Edd,” Matt replied. “I’ll see you in class, Tord.” Tord nodded and walked away.

“See you, Tom,” he waved. Tom waved back and smirked. “Have fun, you two.”

“Shut up,” Edd growled, blushing while Matt laughed.

 

**. . .**

As the two watched their friends walk away, Edd asked Matt a question: “What . . . _happened_?”

Matt turned to him, confused. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Edd sighed, unable to take his eyes off Tord, who was wearing Tom’s old sweatshirt. “I mean . . . _look_ at them, Matt. They’ve hated each other for years, remember? And suddenly they just walk into school one day like everything’s fine.”

Matt blinked. “Well, I wouldn’t say they’ve _hated_ each other. Maybe dislike or ignore or despise, but not hate _._ My mom’s always told me that’s a pretty strong word,” he said, smiling innocently. “And anyways, maybe this is a good thing. It’s about time they stop the fighting and get along, right?”

Edd sighed again, smiling a bit at the thought of them, all four of them, finally being able to hang out as a group again. “It’s just . . . it’s been so long since we’ve done something together, y’know? I just can’t believe it, it’s too good to be true. I don’t want anything to take that away from us again.”

Matt adjusted his jacket and gave Edd a hug. “Aww, just be happy, okay? Nothing’s gonna get taken away from you. Not if you, nor I, can help it. If they get themselves into another argument, they can find their way out of it, yeah?

Edd breathed in Matt’s cologne, a fluttering feeling warming his insides as he let the ginger’s soft hair brush against his rosy cheek. “Yeah, I hope so. I guess you’re right. I’ll see you around, then. Are we still up for graduation shopping?”

Matt winked, sending Edd a finger gun in his direction. “You bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some EddMatt fluff <33 platonic or romantic i dont care these boiyos are CUTE AFFF  
> (there will be more in the future so stay tuned ;)
> 
>  
> 
> have a great day/afternoon/night everybody!!


	8. Haunted by Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boss learns about Travis' plans and makes sure that he won't get off the hook easy.  
> That's never a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a character in here named Burk, don't pay him any mind for now cuz he won't be mentioned again until waaaaaaaay later  
> Until then, enjoy ;)

_**Meanwhile, in Norway . . .** _

 

Darkness flooded the alleyway like spilled ink, the night sky so blue it was almost black, the clouds a misty purple as they hung limply in the atmosphere. Only old street lights that were about to die served as light. Instead of black ink staining a snow-white canvas, it was the opposite - it was the paper that was shaded the dull color, and only small pools and little drops of white would stand out from the rest.

When you’re a gang member, these shadows haunt you. There’s no escaping it. No matter how far you go, how fast you run, that darkness will always be right behind you. It haunts you, terrifies you even, if you’re one of those people who just can’t accept the truth the way it’s been given. Some of them have grown used to it, adapted to the cool empty nights, knowing that hope would never be found, while others literally go mental and go to drastic measures.

Some kill themselves.

Some end up killing someone else.

Some end up in jail.

And some run away.

No matter what route they take, their destination never has a happy ending.

Streetlights, maybe only three or four, flickered on the seemingly deserted streets. You’d have to be a fool to walk on these streets alone, especially without some sort of self-defense. Every once in a while, a stupid drunk or an ignorant bystander would make the mistake of doing just that, and they paid the price for doing so. If you’re lucky, the gangsters will leave you alone. Otherwise, the most common result is a couple bruises and a lost wallet.

The only time you’re really safe on these streets is when you’re a gang member. Because gang members can’t rob other gang members, whether it be possessions or invasion of privacy, unless they’re given direct orders from the Boss.

In this case, that’s what Burk had to do. He wasn’t anyone too special, he really wasn’t. The Boss had sent him out to track down one of their suspected runaway gang members, which wasn’t a very hard job to do. The Boss could have done it himself, but it was just to easy of a task to complete - he saved his ferocious charisma for his enemies. He loved the adrenaline pumping in his veins, the excitement of picking up a weapon and drawing blood out of it.

“I did whatcha told me to do, Boss,” Burk grunted, his voice gruff as the Boss’ back was turned to him. They were in what they called their territory, the hideout, whatever they felt sounded appropriate to them.

The Boss’ attire only consisted of a tight grey tank top (that was ripped from the sides) and equally compact blue jeans that looked like they had been stained with some sort of crimson liquid, but it was just a crusty brown spot now. He nodded slightly at the statement, letting the statement sink in as he slouched stiffly in his seat, a simple brown crate. There was about twenty other guys standing around, some having vociferous conversations or arguments while others stood quietly by themselves, smoking a cigar or two as one of their legs propped themselves so they could lean against the walls.

When Burk had walked into the area, they fell quiet as they watched him pass by. They knew what he had been assigned to do. The rumors of Travis, one of the most infamous, stealthiest, and strongest members of their gang, maybe even the best, had spread rapidly.

“Where does he live?”

The Boss’ voice was deep, and it rumbled dangerously, dripping with abhorrence. Just from the tone of his voice Burk knew he was ticked. Everyone stopped what they were doing when they heard him speak in such an aggressive manner. The street lights continued to flicker quietly, lighting up the faint graffiti on the walls of the abandoned buildings they marked as their spot.

Burk held a placid, emotionless expression on his face, careful to show any signs of fear or anticipation. If you were to bring the Boss any bad news, even if it wasn’t your fault, you could always end up being his punching bag. “On Alpine Avenue, 4268. I saw him walk into an apartment building and come back out with a backpack. K4.”

The Boss let out a grunt, rubbing his dirty blonde goatee, which was starting to get stubbled with grey hairs. If this man was correct, which he better pray he is, then they still had a chance of finding him. “Did you see him come back?”

“Nah, I think he left west, towards the bus terminal.”

“Was anyone with him before he left?”

“Some woman. He kissed her on the cheek before he left. She looks kinda old to be his girlfriend, but I dunno. I think she’s his mother.”

“Wonderful,” the Boss said, satisfied with the newfound information at hand. He stood up and cracked his thick neck. Everything about his build was extremely brawny and robust, and he was the tallest out of everyone else. By far the biggest and the strongest, and his tattoos and scars backed it up. Everyone was silent, wanting to see how he would react to the findings.

“It’s a shame we gotta waste our time on this bastard Travis,” he said, spitting a glob of chewing tobacco in disgust. “But we know the rules, boys. You ain’t ever allowed to quit the gang, ever. He’s only wasting’ his time runnin’ away. Unless he’s lookin’ for a beatin’ from me,” he chuckled, but no one joined him. He was dead serious.

“It would be a royal pain in the ass if we tried tracking him down at the bus terminal. We’ve got better things to do with our time. But we could get some help from our boy’s mama . . . “

He flashed a venomous grin at Buck and the other gang members who had been standing behind them, and they all cheered. They all knew what that meant. If they couldn’t go straight to the source, they could always break in and interrogate someone close to them, whoever the unlucky soul was. And they hadn’t seen spilled any blood in a while.

The only one who didn’t cheer was Burk. He shifted uncomfortably in his spot, but he kept his counsel. _Why did the Boss want to get Travis so bad?_

“But we ain’t goin’ right away,” the Boss added, crossing his humongous muscles. “We still got a huge deal with the Western Coast that’ll take us a week at most to finish off.”

The Western Coast was another gang from another part of Norway, who they were planning to ship barrels of drugs to.

Travis and his stupid runaway plan could wait, he supposed as he grabbed a nearby beer bottle and drank from it. But one way or another, he would pay for his actions. The Boss wanted to see Travis begging for his mercy as he beat the living hell out of him. The Boss held a hated for the man that no one was aware of, and the reason why had never even been considered.

At least not to them. Travis was a threat to him. He needed to be gone, and him running away wasn’t satisfactory for him. He felt a vigor rise in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sum shit is about to go down guys, Travis' mom you better pray
> 
> also just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who's been commenting & leaving kudos, you guys are the best <33 yall dont know that makes my day! Hopefully you'll like the show that's about to start pretty soon ;)
> 
> Have a good day/afternoon/night everyone!!!


	9. Prom Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the gang in Norway is planning their scheme, the boys are looking forward to their graduations and the upcoming prom that is sure to be s p e c t a c u l a r

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no, i didn't include a promfic in a Gang AU just because  
> the prom scene that I'm planning to write about is actually pretty important you'll see why sooooooooo ENJOY  
> i wrote this chapter early cuz i love you guys hA
> 
> good/bad news tho: some real violent shiz is gonna go down v e r y soon ;)

 

“Damn,” Edd muttered under his breath as he poked his school lunch with a plastic fork. “Would it hurt this cheap-ass school to serve something  _ real  _ for once?”

Tord agreed as he looked down at the “food” with disgust. It was some sort of horrendous, slimy-looking pile of vomit-green and fungus-infested unclarified mush that seemed to  _ breath.  _ Sure, it was free, but what was the point of getting free stuff if you weren’t getting anything out of it?

“Here, you can have my lunch, Edd,” Matt offered with a smile as he passed his unopened lunchbox to the brunette. Edd stared at it, astonished at Matt’s willing generosity, and gaped at him.

“Are you sure, Matt? You can have it if you wa - “

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said, waving it off. “I ate a huge breakfast this morning. Not that hungry. And besides,” he added, sending a wink in his direction, “I gotta keep my figure in check, ya know? Wouldn’t wanna get fat on anybody.”

Edd almost whimpered with joy as he thanked Matt continuously and flew open the zipper, ripping the contents out of the bag and consuming it rapidly.

Tom and Tord stared at each other and rolled their eyes. These two.

“Thanks for offering the rest of us your lunch, Matt,” Tom said, half-joking and half-serious, with Tord agreeing just as equally as he picked up his tray and gladly dumping it in the trash.

Over the course of the next few days, Tom and Tord had been getting used to waving or nodding to each other in the hallways. They felt comfortable enough to sit in the same table with Edd and Matt, mostly talking about school and graduation and just joking around in general.

“Well, why don’t you convince Tord to bring his own lunch, and he can share with you?” Matt joked, and Edd laughed in between chews of  _ real edible food. _

“Ha ha,” Tom said sarcastically as Tord sat down. “So, anyway. This food made me lose my appetite, so I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Did you ask Edd to go with you to prom yet, Matt?”

The pair began to blush madly, and even Edd stopped chomping on a mid-way bite, making Tom and Tord burst into a pile of laughter. It was so obvious that they had some sort of interest in each other, but during all the years they spent in high school Matt had never asked out a person to a dance, or any other social event, for that matter. He just took a mirror with him and said that he was going with himself.

“That’s, uh, confidential,” Matt sputtered, making Edd’s eyes widen with hope, but he suddenly remembered that he was in the company of his other two friends and acted like he didn’t hear anything.

That totally meant he was planning to ask Edd. Maybe he already did, and they’re just trying to keep it a secret. Keyword:  _ trying. _

“Who’re  _ you  _ going with, Tom?” Edd interrogated suddenly, and Tom knew he only asked to change the subject. He simply shrugged as he kept his look on the cafeteria food. To be truthful, Tom wasn’t really into things like this; the schools didn’t allow alcohol in these events, and the songs the DJ played (which is really just an unprofessional mid-age guy who was told to play cheesy and “school appropriate” songs) was trash.

And besides, he hadn’t even considered showing up with a  _ date.  _ Not that Tom had high standards (although he didn’t have any low ones either), but he hadn’t really thought of having a love interest very hard; he guessed that he was too busy with bass practice and studying and working so he could pay for his phone and car insurance. Besides, he didn’t think he’d met anyone that had caught his attention.

“Tom? You there? Earth to Tom?” Edd chuckled, waving his hand in front of Tom’s wavering eyes. He blinked as he snapped back to reality. “Huh? Oh, uh - oh, yeah. I’m not even sure if I’m going, Edd. I haven’t thought about it much - “

“ _ What _ ?” everyone, even Tord, exclaimed suddenly. “Dude, this is like, the last prom of high school you can ever have!” Matt said, eyes wide with disbelief. “What else could you possibly have planned that night?”

“Wait, guys, listen to this,” Edd said, his smile forming into a smirk. “I heard that a bunch of seniors in our classes are planning to sneak in alcohol to the prom. And not only that, but - “

Someone walked by their table, passing a vibrant purple paper to each of them. Tom picked it up curiously and read it. It was the usual - the prices of the tickets, the formal clothes you should wear, but there was something that stood out from the rest of it all:

 

**PROM NIGHT ON JUNE 24, 20xx!!! 8:30 PM - 11:30 PM**

**Show Off Your Talents On Your Last Dance of the Year!**

**You Can SING, DANCE, or SHOW OFF ANY TALENT For Free!!!!**

**No, Pole-Dancing is NOT Allowed.**

 

“Hey, they’re having a talent show too?” Edd asked with interest and a snicker. “Wait till they hear my unique and classic jokes, guys.”

“Oh, no,” everyone else joked, but Edd suddenly grew serious. “Hey, Tom. You should go and play your bass up there! That would be so cool!”

Everyone else agreed, and Tom suddenly felt embarrassed. “Nah, I dunno guys . . . “

But now he was definitely considering it. Sneaking alcohol, maybe even Smirnoff, to the prom? And he could play his bass onstage too? That would  _ really  _ make up for the DJ’s lame playlist.

Tord, however, was completely obligated to go to this prom. Yes, he was going for fun, but he also had another drug deal coming up that he was  _ not  _ looking forward to. He had planned to quit after the last time he sold some, but the other guys insisted that he should do one last deal before they went their separate ways. He had even moved from his old table to sit with his  _ real  _ friends, but it was like they didn’t get it.

Oh well. At least, after this, he wouldn’t have to worry about it after that.

 

**. . .**

School ended pretty quickly after that, and Tom began to walk towards his car like any other day (sometimes he walked, sometimes he drove his car. Whatever floated his boat. Edd liked his car so he drove him to school in the mornings every once in a while). However, someone calling for his name stopped him in his tracks.

He turned around and saw Tord jogging after him. “Hey Tord. What’s up?”

“I, uh . . . I have a question,” Tord asked, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. “This is gonna sound weird and I don’t know how to word this out any other way, so I’m just gonna ask. Do you think we could go . . . prom shopping, together?”

Tom blinked, staring at the Norwegian with a confused look. “I’m sorry, what?” then he laughed and then smirked. “Movin’ a little fast, aren’t we?”

Tord laughed sheepishly. “Whatever, Jehova. Listen, I know it sounds weird, but this prom is coming up in two days and I don’t want to wear the same thing as last year’s,” he explained. “And my aunt can’t take me because she went on a trip with her husband and they won’t be back till July.”

“Oh.” Tom shrugged. “Okay. That’s cool. I was thinking about going, so I guess I could get myself something too. When did you want to go?”

Tom sucked in air in between closed teeth, rubbing the back of his head. “Do you think we could go now? The place isn’t far from here, and I’ve honestly got nothing better to do.”

“Alright, then. You’re lucky I’m off from work today. C’mon,” Tom prompted as he opened his car door and hopped inside, with Tord following soon after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's one thing I learned from high school so far, it's that you HAVE to have someone go with you while prom shopping.  
> Where's the fun in going alone?? You can go with the person you h a t e and you'd STILL be hype about it
> 
>  
> 
> ((no pole dancing allowed))


	10. **BONUS - Matt Asks Edd Out to Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the title, darlings~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this does not affect the story whatsoever, I just wrote it for fun and because you readers have treated me well! If you don't want to read this fluffy and admittedly sappy EddMatt bonus then you can skip on to Chapter 11

When school ended, Edd and Matt agreed to walk together. Edd loved the feeling that Matt gave him when he was around; not that Tom and Tord weren’t important to him, but the way the ginger always found a way to lift his spirits with his adorable and childish antics made him all the more admirable.

Edd wondered if today would be the day that Matt would ask him out to prom, or if he would consider asking anyone at all, but he tried to prevent himself from raising his hopes up too much.  _ Matt probably just thinks of me as a friend, and I’m okay with whatever he feels comfortable with,  _ Edd told himself, but the thought of Matt asking someone else gave the brunette a slight fear and a bite of jealousy that he didn’t voice.

As they were talking about their upcoming graduation, Matt took a deep breath, almost shaky, and cleared his throat. “Edd? Can I ask you something?”

There they were, the butterflies fluttering in both of their stomachs. It tickled so much but it also hurt because Edd didn’t know what Matt would say, but he hoped that he would finally ask him the year-old question that he was looking forward to for so long. “Yeah, Matt?”

“Listen, we’ve been friends for a really,  _ really  _ long time,” he began, and Edd swore he forgot how to breath. “And we’ve been through a lot together. You’re super funny and nice, and . . . I thought I was the only beautiful thing on this planet. But, after a lot of thinking, I realized, that . . . “

Matt found his warm fingers entwining with Edd’s. He kept his gaze on the ground, realizing that was he was about to say was not only risky but also very, unnaturally selfless. “. . . That there are other people who are beautiful too. And I wish I saw that in you earlier.”

The ginger looked into Edd’s sparkling green eyes and swore that he had never seen a color look so gorgeous, and they complimented his cute rosy cheeks. “And I guess, what I’m trying to say is - I really like you. And I feel like you’d treat me better than the others I’ve gone out with, so, do you think you could come with me to prom this year? It would mean a lot to me, even if it we went just as friends. It would be a lot better than going with a mirror, anyway.”

The two chuckled as they blushed, and Edd begged his heart to stop beating to furiously. It took him  _ so freaking long,  _ but he finally did it - Matt offered Edd what he desired so badly, and now all he had to do was break out of the iceberg of nerves he was trapped in and accept it.

“Yes, Matt,” Edd croaked, smiling so hard he could barely speak. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

_ He said yes. Edd said yes!  _ “R-Really?” Matt asked, trying not to squeal as his adorable smile stretched from ear to ear. Edd simpered and nodded, covering his mouth with his hand as he got lost in those deep blue eyes of his. Matt was so happy he scooped the brunette in his arms and swung him around, both of them giggling with joy that they thought would never end.

And that was when they both finally realized that everything was done perfectly - they were outside on a glorious sunny day, with birds and butterflies freely decorating the baby-blue sky and the healthy green trees and grass colored their background.

“You make me so happy.”

“You make me happy too, Matt. You really, really do.”

Neither could have asked for a better day.


	11. "Is That a Challenge?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord run into Edd and Matt while they're prom shopping, and Edd asks a rather interesting question that shakes them both

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i threw some memes in this chapter if you squint (every writer needs their daily dose ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The car ride wasn’t very long, and it was quiet as the two boys made their way to the destination. It wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet, but more like a mutual peace that they both personally enjoyed. Sometimes it was nice to sit back enjoy looking around, watching the whole world pass by and having someone beside you to share it with.

“So,” Tom said as they stopped at a red light, “have you talked to your brother lately?”

Tom was the only person Tord openly talked about his brother to. Not that he kept anything against Edd and Matt, but after the night he and Tom spent drinking vodka and sharing secrets in a drunk daze, he didn’t mind lifting some of his personal worries off his chest.

And Tom seemed to understand completely.

Tord stayed quiet as his mind relished at the memory of their most recent conversation - or rather, argument. “Not really. We got in a fight the last time we talked.”

“Oh.” Tom contemplated if he should ask what happened, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Tord seemed pretty bothered and it would be a jerk move to pretend that he didn’t notice. “What happened?”

“I told him about the fight at the bar,” Tord said, crossing his arms, his knee bouncing furiously. “And he started telling me how I shouldn’t be drinking and going out and whatever. I can do that stuff if I want to, can’t I?”

“Well, technically, you can’t. You gotta be twenty-one to do that stuff legally,” Tom pointed out, “but I guess I can’t talk cuz I’ve been drinking since middle school.”

Tord tried putting on a strong front, but in reality he wanted to stop the drug dealing, he really did. The drinking was fine if he kept it in moderation, but messing with drugs was dangerous, even if you didn’t smoke it. He knew his brother was just trying to help him, but he didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong.

“I mean, I love vodka, believe me,” Tom admitted as he made a left turn. “And that’s literally one of the main reasons why I’m going to this prom in the first place. But drugs, Tord, is a serious thing. It shouldn’t be messed with. At all.”

“I know,” Tord admitted, casting his eyes out the window. “I quit with the drug dealing. I’m not really into that anymore.”

“Wait - really?” Tom asked, sounding surprised. He didn’t agree with drug dealing whatsoever, and knowing that Tord being involved in it both worried him and pissed him off. The guys that he sold the drugs to were honestly just horrible, he just didn’t trust them. Hearing that Tord quit was just too sudden, too good, to be true. He hoped Tord wasn’t lying.

Tord nodded.

And that was when Tord remembered that he had another drug deal coming up that he completely forgot about. And Tom was going to be in the same building where it was going to happen. He gulped as he thought about what he got himself into. He would have to make the sell as private and fast as possible so he wouldn’t know, and he’d never do it again.

**. . .**

The store was a considerably large building, and although it only had two floors it looked like a mini mall. Tom and his friends usually came here a lot to hang out, sometimes to eat in one of the nearby buffets or restaurants, or just to walk around.

Tom and Tord moved onto a more lighthearted and jovial conversation, talking and laughing as they looked at some of the suits they had on display. Tom held one of them up and smirked.

“You  _ cannot _ tell me this isn’t something that the guy from Bob’s Burgers would wear.”

“My God, Thomas, shut  _ up. _ ”

After awhile, Tom noticed a suit that caught his eye. It was an ebony-black colored vest that had a rich blue shirt underneath, and the buttons and collars were pretty fancy too. He picked it up and looked at it for a little bit and called Tord over, who was looking at a pair of shoes.

“That looks sharp,” Tord agreed, rubbing his chin, “but also expensive as shit. Check the tag.”

“It’s only  £108.04 .”

“WHAT? How? That looks like something Michael Jackson himself wore.”

“It’s for sale.” Tom was smiling now. This would look so fresh with a black-and-white checkered tie. He was so ready to buy it. “I think I’m going with this one. What about you, Tord?”

“Well damn,” Tord said, going to the rack where Tom found his suit and picking out the exact same one, except the shirt underneath was red. “You can’t be the only one getting all the attention, Tom. I’m getting this too. I need a bowtie.”

Tom snorted. “A  _ bowtie? _ ”

“Yes, Jehova, a  _ bowtie. _ Is there a  _ problem _ with that?”

“Yeah, if you’re trying to imitate the Playboy logo - “

“Tom? Tord?”

A familiar voice called their names, and they turned around to see Edd and Matt standing behind them. They waved for the two happily to come over.

“You guys are prom shopping too?” Edd asked as they walked in front of them. Tom nodded as he held up his suit. “Yeah, we just found our suits. I didn’t know you and Matt would be here.”

Edd chuckled as he leaned on casually against Matt’s arm. “Yeah, we’re getting our stuff too. We were debating whether we should have matching colors or not, but I just love green too much and he likes purple, so we’re just getting the same suits, but different colors.”

Tord’s eyes widened. “You two are going together?”

The couple nodded energetically.

“About time,” Tom teased, but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards the two. They found their match so quickly, and it was right under each other’s noses the whole time. What would it be like to go to a prom with someone with such a close bond?

“Woah, Tord,” Matt said, pointing at Tord’s suit, “are you matching with Tom?”

Edd gasped. “Are you two going together?”

Tom and Tord both blinked and looked at each other with blank expressions. Neither of them had ever thought about going with each other, but now that the idea was in the air, they couldn’t help but wonder - what if they  _ did _ go with each other? Wouldn’t that be weird though? They were friends, yeah, but Tom had never really seen himself with a guy before.

But then again, he hadn’t really imagined himself with anyone, so it wasn’t overruled.

But he and the Commie used to hate each other, didn’t they? So why would the communist even consider going with him?

Little did Tom know, Tord had been asking himself the same questions. Since either of them didn't have a direct answer, they brushed it off. “Nah, there’s no way,” they said in unison.

“Aww, why not?” Edd said, pretending to whine, but Matt tugged his hoodie sleeve. “C’mon, Edd, let’s go pay for our stuff before the line gets longer!”

“Ugh, fine. See you guys later!”

“Bye, Edd,” Tom and Tord muttered, relieved that they wouldn’t be pestered any longer.

**. . .**

They purchased their suits, got their ties and shoes, and eventually got back in Tom’s car in an hour and a half. “So I’m taking you to your aunt’s place, right?”

Tord nodded, taking a drag of his cigar and blowing the smoke out the window. “Yeah, I’m exhausted. Shopping is difficult. Especially with you.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“You kept distracting me with your memes, you asshole. I’m trying to buy a pair of shoes and all I could hear was  _ ‘better ingredients. Better pizza. Papa John’s.’  _ I hate you so much.”

By then the two were cracking up, and Tom almost crashed into a parked car. The rest of the car ride consisted of memes and simple talk, but neither of them couldn’t get rid of the comment Edd made earlier of their minds. They could totally go to prom just as friends.

_ But what if Tord’s already going with someone?  _ Tom thought as he gripped onto the steering wheel. Would he care? He wouldn’t be jealous, would he?

Tom felt his face heat up. What the heck was he thinking? He had no chance with Commie, no matter how he looked at it. Just look at him, with his well-toned arms and piercing grey eyes and that thick Norwegian accent that sounded so unique . . .

Not that he was admiring any of that, of course.

He shook his head. _ Stop thinking about it. Stop it, stop it, stop it. _

“Hey, Tom,” Tord said as they were nearing close to the house. “Who’re you going with to prom? You never answered Edd earlier in lunch.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I haven’t asked anyone yet, I was thinking about going alone,” he lied. He felt Tord’s intense gaze on him and he tried to pretend that he didn’t notice. “Why, are you goin’ with anyone? What about that girl Hailey?”

“Oh, Jesus, no,” Tord said, shaking his head. “She may have been pretty and have big boobs, but she was a monster. Never again. I lost hope in humanity after that mistake.”

Hailey was a girl Tord  _ almost  _ went out with in junior year, and she was  _ obsessed _ with him. She stalked him, followed him, every second and detail of his life was on her radar. She was even getting jealous when he talked to his friends, and it led up to the point where she practically scratched some girl’s face off because she thought she was hitting on Tord. All she did was ask him for a pencil.

Tord shuddered at the memory. Girls, although they were attractive, could be scary creatures. As weird as it sounded, he would have preferred to go with a guy to prom over them. But who would be willing to go with Tord, even if it was just platonically?

. . . Besides Tom, maybe?

Before he would have gagged at the idea, but the more he thought of the more appealing it seemed, the two of them laughing and getting drunk and having a good time like the day he slept over his house without really planning to.  _ Tord, are you on drugs? I must be on drugs. _

Tom laughed as he parked in the driveway of Tord’s house, and for a moment they kinda just sat there, until Tord said, “I might need a ride to the prom. You think you could take me?”

Tom turned to look at Tord and noticed that the Norwegian couldn’t make direct eye contact with him. “Well, in that case, I’d might as well ask you to come with me to prom,” he joked with a smirk.  _ Tom, what the hell are you doing?? _

There was something in Tom’s smirk that hinted something, and Tord saw it. It didn’t go unnoticed. Was Tom really serious? Would he be willing to go with Tord to prom? Was he actually feeling  _ happy  _ about it? Would that be too much caution thrown in the air?

 

But, then again, Tord had always liked danger.

 

“I mean - I don’t think you’re man enough to ask me,” Tord challenged suddenly, and he had no idea where the sudden boldness came from. "I would be the one doing the asking since you're too much of a coward to ask  _me."_

_ Oh, it’s on,  _ Tom thought as he smiled mischievously. “Oh, is that so? Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe it is,” Tord snapped, subconsciously starting to inch a bit closer to the Brit.

“Fine then,” Tom said, closing his eyes and shrugging casually. “Come with me to prom. You’re the only other person I talk to besides Edd and Matt, and it would be better than going alone. So come with me to prom,  _ Commie. _ ”

“I will, then,  _ Jehova _ ,” Tord responded, beginning to open the car door and go outside, but he stopped midway. “What time are you coming for me?”

“I dunno, probably 8:30. Be ready by then, or I’m leaving your ass behind and you’re gonna have to walk.”

“Whatever. Bye, Tom,” Tord waved as he closed the door and walked to the house. Tom sat for a minute, not realizing that he was watching Tord for a good fifteen seconds.

_ What the fuck just happened? _

**. . .**

As Tord fumbled with the keys to open the door to the house, his mind was completely blank. It stayed completely blank until he got in the house and snuffed his cigar on a nearby ashtray. He peeled off his thick red hoodie, wondering when it suddenly felt so hot, and stalked off to his room and rolled in bed. He stared at the plain, blank ceiling with wide eyes and released the breath he’d been holding in for what felt like a year.

_ Did I just agree to go to prom with Tom? _

He shook his head, letting the warmth of the comforting afternoon drift him off into a quiet rest. What would everyone else in the school think when they walked in together, wearing  _ matching suits? _

_ I’m overthinking this. We’re going as friends,  _ Tord tried to convince himself as he buried the side of his face deeper into the pillow.  _ I don’t like Tom. There’s no way on Earth I could like that British asshole . . .  _

But a faint image of Tom’s mischievous face, slightly swayed and drunken from vodka, buzzed in Tord’s mind, and it made him smile.

 

. . .

 

_ Shit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Girls, although they were attractive, could be scary creatures."
> 
> Sorry if this came to anyone as offensive, it was supposed to be funny cuz I'm a girl and I know from experience that girls can be a bit wild lol  
> I remember hearing something very similar to that from a comedian, i forgot his name though uuugh it was great too  
> oh well have a great day/afternoon/night everyone!!


	12. Dance Better, Faster, Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord start off the prom with a bang, and the next thing they know they start dancing together??  
> And Tom doesn't know what these new feelings are, but he needs to get to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER WILL HAVE SOME VIOLENCE, R E A L V I O L E N C E
> 
> i know i've been making you guys wait a while but the actual, REAL plot of the story is coming up, so take this chapter as a peace offering ig?? before things start to go downhill??

Tom stood in front of the bathroom mirror with his suit on, and struggled quite a bit to tie on his checkered tie that he was personally quite vain of. He could have asked his mother to help him (because for some reason every mom knows how to tie ties), but that meant he would have to walk in her room and face his stepfather, which he wasn’t in the mood to put up with. He always had something snarky to say, so Tom simply avoided doing this by Googling “How to tie a tie.”

But, no matter how hard he tried to focus on the instructions that were given, he couldn’t stop thinking about Tord. He had to pick him up in fifteen minutes.  _ I wonder if I should get him a gift or something,  _ he thought as he finally managed to tighten the tie around his neck. Would that be too much? Or would it be considered rude if he didn’t get him anything at all?

Tom sighed, content with how he looked, and went to his room where his bass was. As he picked the case up, he remembered how Tord came over and fixed up Susan, and I smiled a bit at the memory. He'd completely forgotten why he and tord disliked each other so much in the first place.  _ Maybe I should get him something,  _ he thought as he swung the bass over his back and began to walk outside, and he bid goodbye to his family and walked to his car.

Then an idea popped in his mind, and he grinned. He knew exactly what to get Tord. But he’d have to go to the supermarket and get it.

**. . .**

Tord groaned as he walked down the aisles of the supermarket, trying to find a bottle of Smirnoff. He wasn’t trying to sneak alcohol into prom, as tempting as that sounded, but he thought it would be somewhat considerable to get Tom some sort of gift.

Which Tord sucked at doing. He never got people  _ good _ gifts. He had gotten Matt a memory-erasing gun for his birthday. Which was a horrible idea.

But he figured Tom would be at least a bit grateful for the vodka. It was the thought that counted, after all. He was going out of his way to take him to prom.  _ Him _ . And Tom. Together.

But it wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. Not at all.

Tord eventually found a bottle, shook his head at the thoughts, and immediately grabbed it and also got a ribbon to tie it around. As he was waiting in line to pay for it, he noticed that there was a person in the other line that he recognized.  _ There’s no way that could be - _

Tom was in the other line, with something in his hands, but Tord couldn’t see what it was. He didn’t seem to notice Tord was there. He was wearing the suit he had bought two days before.

Tord couldn’t lie. He looked  _ stunning. _

He began to internally freak out.  _ Shit, should I say something? What do I do? _

_ Wait, chill out, Tord. It’s just Tom, not your homecoming prince. _

But he sure as hell  _ looked  _ like one.

The person in front of him finished paying for their stuff, and he was next. He quickly swiped his credit card and tied the ribbon around the bottle of Smirnoff. Tom had just finished paying for his stuff too. He looked up and finally saw Tord. “Oh shit, Tord?”

“What are you doing here, Thomas?” he asked slyly, trying not to act nervous.  _ Why was he even nervous in the first place? _

“I - uh . . . I got you a gift?” Tom replied, rubbing the back of his head as a blush dusted his cheeks. He handed something to Tord. It was a box of cigars with a red ribbon wrapped around it.

“What the - “ Tord started, and began laughing as he accepted it. “Tom! I was on my last one too,” he added, and Tom smiled. Why did that smile make his face heat up? “Thanks.”

“No problem. Now where’s my gift, Commie? Or did you not bother to get me anything,” he teased. He grinned at him and handed him the Smirnoff. “Thanks for taking me to prom, Jehova,” he quipped, pretending to be sappy. But he really, truly was grateful for the Brit putting up with him.

Tom’s jaw dropped as he stared at the bottle in Tord’s hand. “Oh my God,  _ what? _ ” he exclaimed, taking the bottle and seeing the blue ribbon wrapped around it. “Tord, you’re hysterical.” He uncapped the bottle and took a sip, clearly satisfied with the unexpected act of kindness. “Thanks, man. That hit the spot.”

“Shouldn’t you be sober at the prom, Tom?” Tord asked with a grin, his arms crossed.

“Oh, no, I’m destroying myself tonight,” Tom said shamelessly as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I’m playing my bass onstage, and then I’m drinking myself way with that alcohol the other seniors are planning to bring. Are you ready?”

“Oh yeah. Let’s go,” Tord said with a nod as the pair made their way outside and to Tom’s car. Tord was still personally worried about the drug deal tonight, but surely it would be quick and painless.  _ Nothing to worry about. You just graduated. Just get it over with and have a good time. _

He was accompanying Tom. He needed to keep himself in check.

**. . .**

Tom rolled up in front of the school, where the prom would be held. He parked his car as close to the entrance as possible and turned to Tord. “Nothing can possibly go wrong tonight,” he joked, throwing a smirk in Tord’s direction.

“Oh, please,” Tord said, half-joking and half-serious, “every wrong thing is bound to happen.”  _ God, for once, just let everything be normal,  _ he begged silently. He’d gone through a lot of crazy shit over the years, and it would be nice if he could enjoy his graduation with Tom without anything strange or weird or just simply anything  _ bad _ happening.

As the two got out the car and made their way to the entrance, they noticed two staff members passing out heart-shaped boxes of chocolate to the couples who walked in arm-in-arm. Anyone who came alone, or anyone who came with someone that wasn’t their date, didn’t receive anything.

Tom and Tord looked at each other at the same time, and Tord smirked at him with a look that Tom could read from a mile away.

Tom shook his head, laughing. “Tord, you can’t be serious.”

“C’mon, Tom,” Tord urged, offering his arm and waving it like a chicken wing. “Free chocolate. And it’ll only be for a couple seconds. Besides, we just graduated,” he added with a gleeful smile. “What, were you man enough to take me to prom, but too much of a chicken to get something sweet?” He sputtered his lips, making a farting sound. “Laaaaame - “

“Ugh, fine,” Tom said finally with an eyeroll, his arm slipping in Tord’s, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Although Tom considered himself fit, he could feel that Tord’s arm was considerably firmer and thick in muscle. There were tattoos on that arm too, he’d seen them before.

Tom was going to be honest . . . it was kinda hot. 

Tord must have seen him staring, and he smiled, but he didn’t say anything. He wondered if the dark hid the color cascading his cheeks, and if Tord noticed.  _ What did I get myself into? _

When they got to the entrance, one of the two guys handing out the chocolates stared at Tom and Tord with a placid expression for a moment. Before either of them could get offended and ask what his problem was, he smirked and handed a heart-shaped box of chocolates to Tord.

“Nice,” he said, offering his fist to Tord. Tord chuckled and bumped the fist.

Tom’s face flushed if it hadn’t already, and his gaze averted to the ground as he struggled to keep his flustered feelings at bay. What was wrong with him?

As soon as the pair walked into the building, their surroundings went from a quiet night to a practical nightclub. The only light that was provided for the gigantic room that didn’t seem to end was a bunch of neon disco lights illuminating from the ceiling. Music blasted from four humongous speakers, one standing on each corner of the area, and the stage was in the center, where the DJ was doing what he did best. Tables aligned each side of the room for anyone who needed a break from dancing - which there was a lot of, Tom noted, as he gawked at the wave of people on the dance floor.

“ _ What _ ?” Tord exclaimed, laughing. “Tom, this is  _ crazy! _ ”

Tom could barely hear him. His jaw was too busy being dropped to respond anyway. After a while, he tried speaking to Tord. “Where should we go first?”

“What?”

“I  _ said, ‘Where should we go first?’ _ ”

“Guys! Over here!” Tom heard a familiar voice call them over. He turned around to see Edd and Matt, sitting at a table together with wide smiles. Tom pulled on Tord’s arm with his own, realizing that they had never let go of each other, and gestured to their friends.

Tom and Tord sat beside the brunette and the ginger. “You guys look sweet,” Tom complimented when he noticed Edd and Matt’s suits and hairdoes. Tord nodded in agreement, but decided to save his voice for a better time. His ears were already pounding to the music’s ridiculously loud beat and for a moment he wondered if he was going to go deaf.

“Thanks!” Edd said bashfully. “You and Tord look  _ adoooorable _ ,” Edd cooed with a wink.

Tom blushed. “Shut up.”

“He’s not denying it,” Matt muttered, but loud enough for everyone to hear. He and Edd laughed.

“Matt,” Tom and Tord said at the same time. Just then, however, Tord noticed a group of guys standing near what he assumed to be the bathroom doors. He knew those were the guys that he had planned to sell the drugs to, but he didn’t want to deal with them right now. He’d just gotten here, and he wanted to have a good time. And besides, there were tons of people standing around; how would they do this without getting caught?

He tried to ignore them, but it was too late - they caught him staring, and they motioned him to come over. He silently told them to wait a minute. Tom saw the hand movements Tord was doing and furrowed his eyebrows. “What the hell are you doing?”

Tord jumped to his attention, and he tried to act normal. “Oh - uh, nothing,” he said casually. “Just thought I smelled something bad. Tried waving it away.”

“Oh. Okay.” Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m kinda nervous about the talent thing,” he admitted. “I brought my bass but now I don’t even know if I wanna do it anymore. There’s so many people _.”_

“Tom, you’ll do great,” Tord said with a smile as he shook the Brit’s shoulder. “You’re a natural, who won’t like you?”

“Aww, look at Tord comforting his  _ boyfriend _ ,” Edd teased again, and Matt laughed even harder. Before either of them could counter, a group of seniors strolled to their tables with two bottles of . . .

“Is that vodka?” Tom asked, his interest piqued when he instantly recognized the label on the containers.

“Hey guys,” one of them said with a mischievous grin. “We snuck vodka into prom, in case ya didn’t hear. We’re also giving out prizes to whoever’s able to chug a whole bottle in one go. Anyone willing to try?”

“Me!” Tom exclaimed immediately, shooting his hand up in the air as his childish side took over.

“Oh! Me too! I can do it too!” Matt said with excitement.

“You two should know better than to drink at prom!” Edd scolded, being mostly serious but also curious to see what would happen next. These two would admittedly be hysterical when drunk, but he didn’t want anything bad happening either. They should be mature enough to make their own decisions now though, right?

The seniors gave one bottle each to Tom and Matt. They uncapped the bottles and awaited the countdown. “Alright, ready? 3 . . . 2 . . . 1!”

Tord and Edd watched with wide eyes as they watched their friends down the vodka with a passion, both of their Adam’s Apples bobbing as they gulped, and Tord had to wonder if Tom had some sort of practice or something before. Liquid had began dribbling down Matt’s chin, and he almost choked, but Tom was doing excellently, his eyes closed contently and the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile as he finished of the rest of the bottle and wiping his lips.

That was unbelievably fast.

Soon Matt threw down his bottle as well, and everyone started cheering for the two. Then Tom released an obnoxiously loud burp, which made everyone laugh. The seniors made their way to the next table after giving Tom and Matt twenty bucks.

“Are you good, Thomas?” Tord asked, patting his back. Tom chuckled and nodded, releasing a small hiccup. “Yeah, man, I - I feel great. We should go dance, guys. Whaddya think?”

Oh yeah, he was already feeling the effects of alcohol and the victorious feeling poisoning his mind and rushing through his veins, but he didn’t care. The prom had already started off with a bang. Edd nodded eagerly. “Good idea, Tom! Hopefully Matt won’t throw up on the floor though . . . “

Matt reassured everyone with a thumbs up and a goofy smile.

“C’mon, Tord,” Tom urged, grabbing Tord’s hand and leading him to the dance floor. Tord gulped at the situation he was thrown into. “Woah, hold on, Tom, what’s gotten into - “

“What, are you not  _ man enough  _ to dance for a little bit?” Tom quipped. “What else are we here for, Tord?”

Tord hesitated before the smirk he’d been holding back finally showed. He personally considered himself to be a pretty good dancer, but he’d always kept quiet about it since he’d never found a good reason to tell anyone. Plus, he wanted to see how well Tom could dance.

“Fine,” Tord said with a smug look and a shrug. “Let’s see if you can keep up with me.”

Just then, a new song with a fast-paced beat began to play, and they immediately jumped into action. Tord grabbed the Brit’s hip with one hand and his hand with the other, and Tom instantly sobered up a bit. He hesitated at the closeness of Tord’s presence, but the Norwegian’s genuine yet challenging smile gave him a bit of a competitive flame.  _ We can play this game, Commie. _

Tom’s hand landed on Tord’s shoulder as his hand clasped over his. Tord looked a bit shocked and Tom’s sudden change of demeanor, but nevertheless all the more excited to have a good time. Their feet tapped and moved quickly but flawlessly to the beat, and Tord was taken aback by Tom’s speed. They continued to mingle for a bit, doing moves that Tord was sure you needed practice for, and he found himself with his mouth slightly ajar at Tom’s grace. The way he moved like his feet were feathers astonished him to the point where he started to unconsciously stare.

Tom must have noticed Tord’s expression as they danced, and the smirk plastered on his face only grew. “Surprised, Commie?”

Tord snapped out of it, his piercing silver eyes blinking. He let his tense muscles relax a bit. “Have you been taken lessons, Thomas? I’m impressed.”

Tom shrugged as Tord spun him, as if they were having a totally normal conversation. “Maybe I took a lesson or two. No big deal.”

Neither of them noticed that a crowd was starting to form around them. They continued to swirl around, red and blue elegantly complimenting each other and they felt a rising adrenaline that sent shivering goosebumps throughout their bodies. When everyone started cheering for them, Tom realized the attention they were getting, and he got distracted. His foot slipped when it should have planted firm on the ground. 

Tom should have fallen hard, but Tord reacted fast enough. “Woah,” he said as he purposely dipped Tom close to the ground in an incredible position, his face close to his as the song ended. A wild applause echoed for them, and for a moment they stayed there, catching their breaths like they had just ran a marathon, and Tord gazed at Tom’s handsome face, caught up in whatever he was feeling at the moment.

Tom gulped at the intimacy between him and Tord, how his arms hooked on Tord’s neck and shoulders as they were frozen in place, how those eyes of his flashed with disco lights and passion and . . . “Woah.”

“I, uh - oh,” Tord stuttered as they slowly separated, their gaze never tearing apart while the crowd continued to scream. Tord chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “That was fun, yeah?”

Tom only nodded, shocked by the feelings he felt during the whole thing. What was that? Why did he suddenly start feeling this way only around Tord, of all people?

. . . Did he feel the same sensation, or was it all in his head?

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Tom said suddenly, before walking quickly in a random direction. He heard Tord calling his name, but he pretended that he didn’t hear anything - he needed a minute for himself. He needed to figure this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to illustrate the dancing part with the best of my ability :P  
> I also imagined the song "Feel This Moment" or some Spanish song playing in the background but you can imagine whatever you want lol


	13. Min Elskede Sønn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travis and Tord's mother gets unwelcomed visitors . . .
> 
> Warning: uuuh just in case someone didn't read the tags there's violence in this chapter and throughout the story sooooooo have fun reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are probably gonna hate me for this and that is totally understandable  
> tbh this chapter wasn't supposed to come out till tomorrow or the day after but you guys motivate me too much lol <33

**_Meanwhile, in Norway . . ._ **

 

Travis sighed as he unlocked the door to his hotel room, bringing a couple bags of groceries into the tiny kitchen that was provided for him with the room and dropping them on the counter. He’d been living in this part of Norway, away from his gang and his mother, for almost a week now, and he was barely getting used to the new life he had to adjust to. He couldn’t wait until he assumed the coast was clear and he could go back home.

 _I wonder how Mom’s doing,_ he thought as he grabbed a cup of ramen noodles and filled it with water, throwing it in the microwave for a good three minutes. _And what about the gang? Are they looking for me? Or have they already given up?_

He felt like an idiot for raising his hopes up like that. There was no way they would give up after only a few days. He’d have to wait for months, at the very least, to be sure that he was completely erased from their minds. He knew how sadistic and vicious they could be - none of what they did was taken lightly.

Travis ran his fingers through his thick hair, furrowing his eyebrows at his own insolence. _If only I hadn’t been so stupid when I was younger,_ he thought as memories of himself making a pact with the gang at sixteen years old flashed in his mind, getting their gang symbol carved into the skin of his wrist with a rusty pocket knife as they held him down when he willingly complied to the feat, trying to muffle his screams in his sleeve, but he quickly shook them away.

 _I’m starting a new life now,_ he convinced himself as he heard the beeping of the microwave go off. _I’m doing this for myself, and for Mom and Tord._

But he couldn’t forget every bad thing he’s done over the past several years of his life - all the robbings, the drug dealing, the drinking, the fighting . . .

The murders. All the crimes he’s committed, all the recognition he’d gotten from his gang, all gone, in the matter of a few days.

Travis gulped as his fingers twitched. He needed to forget about it.

But how could you forget about shadows when they’re always right behind you?

 

**. . .**

A dangerously low growl rumbled deep down from The Boss’s throat as he shoved his pocket knife in the back pocket of his ripped jeans. He tightened the black leather belt around his waist as his teeth bit down on the end of the cigar he was smoking.

 _It’s almost been a week._ A week since Travis’s disappearance, and he offered no heads-up or warning or reason as to why he did so. The Boss sent one of the rookies over to one of their rival gangs to see if they knew anything about it, in case they’d kidnapped him or held him hostage or anything of the like, but they claimed that they hadn’t seen the guy and returned his rookie all bruised and beaten up, as punishment for accusing them for doing something so pointless.

The Boss couldn’t handle the anger boiling in his chest and released his fury by kicking a nearby crate, making the rest of the gangsters stop what they were doing and stare. He should have known better than to think that anyone would have the nerve to attack Travis. Out of everyone in his gang, excluding the Boss, he was the the most skilled and infamously dangerous man out there.

But now he was gone, and the Boss should have been glad of his riddance. But instead he was pissed. He felt competitive towards the younger man, feeling like he was trying to take his place. The Boss would make sure he wouldn’t let that happen - he needed to make sure Travis would pay for underestimating him.

“Burk!” he called gruffly, and the man came to his attention. He called another guy over and the three had a personal meeting. “You are going to show us where you saw Travis and that woman,” he ordered with a pointed calloused finger. “We’re gonna teach this lil’ bastard a lesson.”

The woman, whoever she was, whether it be his sister or girlfriend or mother, had to have some sort of idea of where he was. The other man looked excited for some action, but Burk only nodded and led the way.

He felt bad. Although he and Travis weren’t very close friends, he was the only person he really talked to around here. They’d helped each other out before, but he had to do what he was told to do. He was raised to look out for himself, so that was what he planned to do.

He swallowed the bitter bile of guilt that had been rising down his throat and kept walking. Whatever was going to happen, he had no control over it. The Boss gave his orders. Whatever happens, Travis brought it upon himself.

 

**. . .**

Travis and Tord’s mother couldn’t stop worrying about her sons, especially Travis. She knew Tord was doing okay in England - he had just talked to his brother the other day sending her salutations - but she had no idea what had gotten into the older of the two boys.

She furrowed her thin eyebrows as she scrubbed the dishes harder, wondering if she blamed herself for her children’s actions. She knew Travis claimed that he left to make extra money, and she truly hoped he did, but something told her that something deeper or more serious was going on that he didn’t want her to know. She couldn’t question him too much though - he was a certified adult, so she supposed he could do whatever he wanted. She just wanted them to be safe.

The mother sighed as she put the last plate away, turned off the faucet, and walked to the living room to retrieve her phone. _Maybe he sent me a message,_ she thought as she checked her inbox. Nothing. Her eyes filled up with tears. Travis was all she had. She had sent Tord off to England thinking he could fix his rebellious attitude, but now she missed him dearly and wanted to see how much her little boy had grown. Now Travis has left her alone, and she wondered if he was ever going to come back.

Was it her fault that they turned out like this? Did they blame her? Or did they blame their thoughtless, drunkard father that left them when they were kids?

A noise coming from outside interrupted her thoughts. It sounded like a knock on the door. Her initial thought was that it was Travis who probably changed his mind about the trip and came home, or maybe the landlord who was looking for their overdue rent money. Just to be safe, she took a peek out the window -

A fist suddenly flew and banged at the glass, making her jump and send a deep fear in her heart. If the window hadn’t been between her face and whoever punched the surface, she would have been in a world of pain. She quickly leaped into a panic, running into her bedroom and squirming herself in the closet in an attempt to hide.

She hadn’t even thought about grabbing a weapon.

**BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG.**

The sounds echoed throughout the house, and she violently shook in horror. They’d been robbed a time or two before, but it was always when they were out and never in the house. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and it scared her. _Please leave, God please make them leave please please please -_

The banging stopped. She was breathing quite heavily now, but she tried to listen to any other sounds that indicated that anyone was still nearby. She heard the voice of an angry man, and two other ones that seemed to console him. Silence.

**_BANG._ **

That sounded like a gunshot. Then she heard the door kick open. Heavy footsteps walking around her household, in different parts of the confinements of her home, the occasional noise of something getting moved or knocked over. “Check everywhere, boys. She’s in here somewhere.”

. . .

_What? WHAT?_

_No no no no no no,_ she silently sobbed to herself, this couldn’t be happening. It was another totally normal day, everything was going fine until this happened. Her blood ran cold as she heard her bedroom door creak open. The shadows of someone’s feet stood in front of the closet door, and she whimpered. _This is it. I’ve done my best. There’s nothing I can do._

The door flew open, and before she knew it two dry, large, meaty hands grabbed her shoulders and threw her against the wall. She hit her head hard, and she yelped at the pain, but managed to stay on her feet. She struggled against the iron-hard grip, knowing it would be useless, but she still thrashed around. She looks up, blinking rapidly, trying to see through her tears of pity, and sees one guy holding her against the wall, and two others standing behind him.

One of the two guys is _incredibly_ huge in height and muscle. The ones holding back glared at her with a hateful look, but the third that held her stared with an unreadable expression. She was too terrified to care. The poor mother had started to sob, scared of not knowing what was going to happen to her. “Please, take anything,” she begged, “take anything you want and go - “

A hand connected with her face, smacking her and making her head jerk to the right. She swore she could feel her blood flow getting cut off by the vice grip the man had on her, her arms throbbing to the beats of her heart.

“Good evening, darling,” the bigger man said, walking up to her and getting rather close to her face with an eerily kind smile. “No need to be so scared. We’re only here to ask ya a couple questions.” He lifted her chin with his thumb, making her look him in the eye. “Answer them, and we’ll let you go without any problems, but if you choose to be difficult . . . “

He snapped his fingers, and the man standing next to him punched her lower stomach area with a force so strong she doubled against the wall and cried in pain.

“Well, I think that pretty much sums it up. Where’s Travis?”

She shivered, the hold of the man being the only thing holding her up from the ground. However, she looked up at them with a snarl as she gritted her teeth, refusing to endanger her son. “I don’t know,” she said with a shaky voice, “and even if I did I would never tell you - “

Another punch, this time to her face. One particular knuckle hit her eye, almost sinking in her socket in an unbearable pain. She saw stars, and for a split moment her vision went black as she whimpered, feeling blood leaking from her eye. She couldn’t see out of it.

“Boss,” the man holding her said, a tinge of doubt lacing his tone, but the man looked at him and spat. “Shut up, Burk. I’m only askin’ the questions. It’s this one over here who wants to be mean.”

“Please, let me go,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. She bit her tongue to distract the pain that was so bad it made her dizzy. It made her want to throw up, her stomach feeling like a drill had dug through her guts, but she held it down.

“Sorry, babe. I told you there wouldn’t be problems if you cooperated. How about this - I’ve been calling your baby boy’s number for a while, and he’s been ignorin’ me. So how about his sibling’s number? Does he have any - “

“No,” she growled through the unbearable agony, and she mentally cursed herself. She had just accidentally revealed that Travis had a sibling. But they didn’t know who he was or where he lived - heck, he was in a whole other _country_. Tord was safe, surely.

The man that had been giving her the blows simply shrugged, pulled out a pocket knife, and tickled the skin of her arm with the tip of it, very lightly. “Y’know,” he drawled, “I’ve always thought red was a pretty color.” The knife suddenly dug deeper, narrowly missing the bone and slicing freshly through her skin as she howled in pain.

These people were sadistic. Inhuman. Bloodthirsty.

“Boss,” the guy with the pocket knife whined, “we’re not gettin’ anywhere with this - she’s a tough one. Can we just shoot ‘er and call it a day?”

“No,” the Boss barked, keeping his eyes on the suffering woman. “We’re not lettin’ Travis go. She’ll break eventually.”

And then, for a brief moment, she wondered how and why and even when Travis acquaintance with these men, and how they found out where she lived, and why they needed to find him so badly -

Just then, her phone dropped out of her pocket. It fell to the floor with a feeble thud, and for the first time everyone’s gaze was taken off of her. The man the other two called “the Boss” stared at it for a moment before breaking into a smile. He bent down to pick it up, and the mother knew what he had in mind.

She couldn’t let him have that phone. She wouldn’t put her sons through hell, not like this.

She thrashed with all her might, even though her weak bones burned from the physical interrogation, and Burk foolishly lost the grip of one of her arms. She flew at the Boss with no fear, her left arm still firm in Burk’s hand, and for a moment she was successful - she managed to scratch his face.

The Boss flinched back by the sudden counterattack, and the guy with the pocket knife dropped his weapon and pulled out another one - a pistol. Burk’s eyes went wide.

“Wait, hold on DON’T - “

Bang. Bang.

She dropped to the floor, her hands clutching onto her chest, feeling her palms getting wet with a warm, sticky crimson liquid. Burk let her go in shock.

“Shit,” the Boss said, watching the woman writhe on the ground, groaning like a lost soul. “She’s fearless, ain’t she?”

“Sorry, Boss,” the guy with the gun said, lowering his pistol. “She looked like she was about to claw your eyes out - “

“Whatever,” he said, bending down once again to retrieve the mother’s phone. This time she couldn’t react, too busy embracing the fire clawing at her insides. “She wasn’t going to break anyway. I have another way of gettin’ to Travis,” the Boss said with a smirk.

He then noticed something sticking out of her pocket. It looked like a business card. He plucked it out and read it. It was the name of a hotel, complete with the name and the address - the card that Travis had given her before he left.

“Boss, we should go,” Burk suggested with slight concern. He feared that a bystander or a neighbor would overhear the commotion and call the police, if they hadn’t done so already. They needed to play it safe and get outta there.

But the Boss had a plan forming in his mind. The place where he assumed Travis was, which was the hotel listed on this card, was too far for them to travel to - they’d have to take a bus, and that alone would take two to three days. He scrolled through her contacts, everything silent except the moans of her pain, until he hit a jackpot - **Tord, Min Elskede Sønn.**

_So he has a brother._

He calmly, wordlessly, took the woman’s phone, took a picture of Travis’ mom, lying in a pool of her own blood, and sent the picture to Travis with a nice little message attached.

“Alright, boys,” he said finally, tucking both her phone and the hotel’s business card in his jean pocket. “Let’s go. I’ve got an idea. I’ll explain later.” He walked out the door, his two men following, and out the house, on their way to the hideout, leaving the woman to bleed to death.

 

The mother continued to whimper, clutching onto her gunshot wounds, knowing that trying to stop the bleeding would have no effect. She couldn’t call the police without her phone. She was in far too much pain and too much of a horrible condition to crawl to help.

One bullet shot her left lung. Internal bleeding was never a good thing. Blood started to fill that organ and she began to cough up the bitter, copper-tasting liquid, sputtering as she sobbed. She felt like she was drowning and burning at the same time.

The other bullet shot a nerve that connected to her heart, a nerve that everyone needed to live. She didn’t have much longer. The blood that her heart pumped was supposed to flow through her veins, but some of it was gushing out in all the places it shouldn’t be.

The last thing she thought about was her sons. Her entire life, her childhood, her job, her estranged marriage, none of that mattered - it was her kids that she lived for, and her kids that she died for. But now they had her phone, and she didn’t know what they had up their sleeves.

A vision of Travis and Tord clouded her mind, and she managed to smile through her tears. She beared beautiful children. If only they saw what she saw in them, the potential they have.

She believed in them. She prayed for them.

 _“Jeg elsker deg to så mye,”_ she whimpered as her sight faded to darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~(｡◕‿◕｡)~~
> 
> *Min Elskede Sønn = my dear son  
> **Jeg elsker deg to så mye = i love you two so much


	14. Author's Note - plz read

Hello to all my lovely readers out there!

 

I know you guys probably aren’t excited to see this author’s note and i totally understand that, tbh i should have posted this way sooner but i didn't know i would take this long but,

If you’ve been wondering why I haven’t been updating this fic in a while, it’s because my high school has been dumping a lot of homework on me

And not only that but we’ve got to move pretty soon so things have been slightly sorta hectic?

It sounds like a dumb excuse but i’ve only been able to write drabbles and oneshots here and there, unfortunately i can’t put my focus on a whole chapter until things start calming down a bit

Good news tho is spring break is coming up and that should give me the freedom i need to continue this fic! (no i haven’t given up on the story, i have an outline of what’s gonna happen all the way up to the ending so plz don’t quit on me now ;-;)

You guys have treated me super well so just wanted to give a huge thanks to everyone who's been enjoying the story, you're awesome <3

 

~Desiree

**Author's Note:**

> *if you have a request be free to leave a comment in any of my works and I’ll try hard to get it done! (please no furries/nsfw) any ship is welcome!!  
> ** if anyone wants to make fanart of anything I write I’m okay with that but all I ask is that you let me know, make sure you give me credit, and send me the link so I can see it!**


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